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FAMOUS   PAINTINGS   FROM   THE   PARIS  SALON. 


SWORD-DANCE  IN  A    CAFE. 

Photogravure  from  the  original  painting  by  Jean  Leon  Ge'râme,  exhibited  in  the 

Paris  Salon  of  iSj8. 


■^TsrK\i9XUKU)T(s)XM-x{j,xi'yxwx\')X\j)n>mmiXL.yu')^^ 


TURKISH 
LITERATURE 


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Copyright,  igoi, 
By  the  colonial  PRESS. 


HiMHY  MORSE  5 Ti-rMOi* 


Plzii 

IHOI 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


THE  national  literature  of  Turkey  is  something  with  which 
the  European  and  American  mind  is  by  no  means 
familiar,  and,  indeed,  it  has  only  recently  become  a  dis- 
tinctive feature  in  the  world's  intellectual  activity.  Turkey  is 
really  an  oriental  country  transplanted  into  a  European  en- 
vironment, and  the  truest  affinities  of  Turkey  are  with  the  far 
East,  with  Arabia  and  Persia.  There  are  at  least  twenty-five 
written  languages  used  in  the  Ottoman  Empire,  and  Turkish  is 
sometimes  written  in  Arabian,  sometimes  in  Persian  characters, 
yet  in  spite  of  the  babel  of  tongues  which  is  found  at  Con- 
stantinople, the  strong  individuality  of  the  Turk  has  manifested 
itself  in  literature  as  it  has  in  politics  and  government,  and 
there  exists  a  considerable  amount  of  epic  and  lyric  poetr}-, 
drama,  romance  and  apologue  which  is  neither  Arabian  nor 
Persian,  but  is  racy  of  the  soil,  the  soil  being  principally  that 
of  Constantinople,  where  the  Sultans,  up  to  the  present  time, 
have  been  eminent  patrons  of  the  literary  craft ;  some  of  them, 
Sultan  Mustapha,  for  instance,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  being 
writers  of  no  mean  accomplishments. 

It  is  usual  to  divide  the  history  of  Turkish  literature  into 
three  periods.  The  primitive  literature  of  Turkey  flourished 
between  the  years  1301  and  1520,  during  which  time  the  Persian 
influence  was  paramount  in  the  romantic  and  mystic  pro- 
ductions of  the  Ottoman  poets.  The  Shah-Nameh  furnished 
many  of  the  heroes  to  these  Ottoman  romances,  and  the  forms  of 
versification  are  all  borrowed  from  Iran.  "  The  Divan  "  and 
"  History  of  the  Forty  Vezirs  "  belong  to  this  period. 

The  middle  period  of  Ottoman  literature  extends  from  1520 
to  1730.  This  is  sometimes  called  the  classic  period,  because  in 
it  the  capabilities  of  the  genuine  Turkish  language  were  tested, 
developed,  and  fixed.  It  opened  with  the  reign  of  Süleyman  I, 
whose  splendid  achievements,  as  a  warrior  by  land  and  sea,  won 

iii 


514935 


iv  SPECIAL    INTRODUCTION 

him  the  name  of  the  Brilliant.  The  general  history  of  literature 
teaches  us  that  national  triumph  in  war  always  gives  a  stimulus 
to  national  literature,  and  accordingly  this  era  is  adorned  by  the 
works  of  Fasli,  and  of  a  host  of  other  poets,  whose  productions 
will  be  found  represented  in  the  translations  contained  in  the 
present  volume. 

The  third  period  of  Ottoman  literature  shows  the  Turkish 
writers  under  the  influence  of  European  models,  but  ending  at 
last  in  Drama,  essentially  the  comedy  of  manners,  and  not  of 
European,  but  of  Turkish  manners.  The  plays  of  Mirza  Feth- 
Ali  Akhoud-Zaide,  of  one  of  which  we  publish  a  translation  in 
this  volume,  reflect  domestic,  forensic,  and  ofhcial  life  at  Con- 
stantinople during  the  last  century  as  truly  as  those  of  Moliere 
reflect  the  speech  and  manners  of  Parisian  society  as  they  ex- 
isted in  the  reign  of  le  grand  monarque.  The  last  development 
of  literary  activity  at  Constantinople  is  shown  not  only  by  the 
developments  of  the  drama,  but  by  the  vigor  displayed  in  the 
domain  of  journalism. 

The  Ottoman  poems,  of  which  we  give  the  only  English 
translation  extant,  that  by  E.  J.  W.  Gibb,  reveal  the  high  rank 
taken  by  Turkish  verse  in  the  poesy  of  the  East.  The  Turkish 
metres  were  many  and  varied,  and  the  flexibility  of  the  language 
lent  itself  to  intricate  forms  of  composition.  In  imagination 
and  passion  these  Ottoman  poems  will  hold  their  own  in  any 
company. 

"  The  Rose  and  the  Nightingale  "  of  Fasli,  which  has  been  for 
the  first  time  translated  into  English  in  the  present  volume,  is 
the  elaboration  of  an  ancient  Persian  myth  with  regard  to  the 
loves  of  Gul  and  Bulbul.  There  are  numberless  allusions  to 
this  beautiful  fable  in  such  works  as  "  The  Divan  "  of  Hafiz,  as 
for  instance  where  he  says : 

In  blossom  is  the  crimson  rose,  and  the  rapt  Bulbul  trills  his  song, 
A  summons  that  to  revel  calls  you,  Sufis,  wine-adoring  throng. 

The  author  of  this  Turkish  poem,  Mohammed  Fasli,  "  Black 
Fasli,"  as  he  was  called  from  his  swarthy  complexion,  was  the 
son  of  a  saddler  of  Constantinople,  and  early  became  a  pupil  of 
the  poet  Sati.  He  soon  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Court,  and 
was  made  secretary  to  the  Divan  by  Prince  Mustapha,  who,  as 
we  have  seen,  was  himself  a  poet.    Fasli  wrote  several  poems  of 


SPECIAL    INTRODUCTION  v 

the  same  character  as  the  present  one,  which  is,  however,  his 
best  and  ripest  production.     He  died  in  1563. 

"  The  Rose  and  the  Nightingale  "  is  a  brilHant  and  gorgeous 
example  of  oriental  poetry,  whose  charm  is  rather  increased 
than  diminished  by  the  repetition  and  prolixity  which  charac- 
terize it.  The  poet  gives  it  in  his  closing  passages  a  profoundly 
mystical  meaning,  which  has  been  so  far  developed  by  other 
writers  that  an  Armenian  Christian  author  says  that  the  Spring- 
time of  Fasli  means  the  Creation,  the  Rose  is  Christ,  the  Rose- 
garden  the  Church,  the  Brook  is  Baptism,  the  South  Wind  is 
the  Inspiration  of  the  Gospel,  the  Nightingale,  the  Soul  full  of 
ardent  faith,  and  so  on.  This  reminds  one  of  Pico  Mirandola 
reconciling  Moses  and  Homer. 

The  drama,  "  The  Magistrates,"  which  is  here  for  the  first 
time  translated  into  English,  is  the  work  of  Mirza  Feth-Ali 
Akhoud-Zaide.  He  is  the  most  original  native  dramatist  whose 
works  have  appeared  in  Constantinople.  Up  to  a  comparatively 
recent  period  the  theatres  of  Turkey  were  dependent  for  their 
comedies  on  translations  from  French,  sometimes  even  from 
German  or  English  comedies  and  farces.  The  Turk  is  fond  of 
witnessing  the.  exertions,  the  excitements  and  perturbations  of 
others,  while  he  himself  remains  indolent  and  imperturbable; 
hence  his  passion  for  story-telling  and  for  the  representations  of 
the  stage.  In  the  dramas  of  Feth-Ali  he  sees  the  life  of  Turkey 
vividly  reproduced.  Love  rules  the  scene.  Eastern  cruelty 
comes  in  with  the  bastinado.  Eastern  duplicity  and  fraud  are 
vividly  portrayed  in  the  law-court  scene.  The  arrangement 
and  development  of  the  play  are  good,  and  the  denouement  is 
natural  and  satisfactory. 

This  will  appear  from  the  following  analysis  of  "  The  Magis- 
trates." In  the  first  place,  the  modern  playwright  will  be 
astonished  by  the  long  list  of  personages  in  the  play.  There  are 
twenty-seven  in  a  short  drama,  consisting  of  a  series  of  scenes, 
brief,  even  to  jerkiness. 

At  the  opening  of  the  play  we  learn  that  Hadji-Ghafour,  a 
rich  merchant,  has  lately  died  and  left  no  will ;  his  property  is 
therefore  claimed  by  Sekine-Khanoum,  his  only  daughter,  a 
girl  of  eighteen,  who  is  engaged  to  marry  Aziz-Bey.  The  sum 
of  money  in  which  the  legacy  consists  has  been  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  President  of  the  Council,  but  before  he  can  pay  it 


vi  SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION 

over  to  the  legatee,  claims  have  been  set  up  in  favor  of  an  alleged 
child  of  the  late  Hadji-Ghafour,  borne  him  by  his  mistress 
Zeneib.  A  conspiracy  is  formed,  with  the  aid  of  certain  soldiers 
who  are  suborned  to  say  that  they  saw  the  child  in  Hadji- 
Ghafour's  arms,  and  that  he  acknowledged  the  paternity.  The 
complications  are  increased  by  the  fact  that  Zobeide,  paternal 
aunt  of  Sekine-Khanoun,  has  promised  the  hand  of  her  niece 
to  a  richer  man  than  Aziz-Bey,  namely,  Aga-Hassan,  a  mer- 
chant. The  young  lady  so  enrages  Hassan  by  the  terms  in 
which  she  repudiates  him,  that  he  joins  the  ranks  of  the  con- 
spirators, among  whom  the  chief  is  Aga-Selman,  who  neverthe- 
less has  undertaken  to  be  the  advocate  of  Sekine-Khanoun  in 
the  coming  lawsuit.  The  suit  at  last  is  opened,  the  witnesses 
come  ready  primed  to  the  bar,  but,  instead  of  telling  their  per- 
jured tale,  relate  how  they  were  induced  to  promise  their  sup- 
port to  a  fabrication.  The  tortuous  diplomacy  of  Aga-Selman, 
the  corruption  of  the  judges,  the  despair  of  Sekine  and  Aziz  are 
depicted  in  the  liveliest  manner,  and  the  revelations  of  the  sol- 
diers, who  are  called  by  the  false  advocate  as  witnesses  for 
Sekine-Khanoun,  but  bribed  to  testify  against  her,  form  a 
double  climax  which  is  a  skilful  stroke  of  dramatic  art.  The 
play  will  be  interesting  to  the  Teutonic  reader,  and  seems  even 
capable  of  adaptation  to  the  American  or  English  stage. 

"  The  History  of  the  Forty  Vezirs  "  is  evidently  a  collection 
of  very  old  stories.  Its  compilation  is  attributed  to  Sheik-Zada, 
who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Murad  H,  1421-1451.  To  this  Sultan 
the  tales  are  dedicated.  They  are  like  all  oriental  tales,  barely 
tinged  with  any  ethical  significance ;  they  aim  principally  at 
amusing  and  distracting  the  mind  by  a  series  of  quickly  chang- 
ing incidents ;  there  is  no  attempt  at  character-drawing,  and  an 
amazing  element  of  the  improbable  spices  the  whole  series. 
They  form,  however,  the  most  notable  work  in  prose  produced  in 
that  period  which  saw  the  dawn  of  a  Turkish  literature,  and  are 
only  inferior  to  the  tales  of  Pilpay  and  the  Hitopadesa  in 
their  frivolity,  exaggeration  and  evident  lack  of  all  those 
features  which  would  indicate  an  earnest  and  conscientious 
study  of  real  life.  They  are  none  the  less  entertaining,  and 
their  genuine  Turkish  characteristics  render  them  valuable  to 
the  student  of  Ottoman  literature  as  well  as  to  the  general 
reader  who  may  take  them  up  merely  pour  passer  le  temps. 


SPECIAL   INTRODUCTION  vii 

The  fables  by  unknown  authors,  which  we  inckide  in  this 
voUime,  and  which  have  never  before  been  translated  into 
English,  are  much  later  productions  of  Turkish  genius.  In 
Europe  the  fable  has  always  been,  in  its  original  form,  one  of 
the  most  effective  and  pungent  vehicles  of  appeal  to  public 
opinion.  Witness  "  The  Belly  and  the  Members  "  of  Menenius 
Agrippa,  so  nobly  rendered  in  Shakespeare's  "  Coriolanus."  It 
well  illustrates  La  Fontaine's  excuse  for  his  own  fables,  namely, 
that  under  some  circumstances  a  man  must  be  silent  or  "  strike 
from  afar."  From  the  vantage  ground  of  the  fable  Menenius 
could  rebuke  a  raging  mob,  and  Le  Fontaine  score  the  ingrati- 
tude of  kings,  as  in  more  recent  times  Krilof  has  satirized  the 
despotic  abuses  of  the  Russian  government. 

The  Turkish  fables  also  "  hit  from  afar."  The  tyranny  of 
Turkish  rulers  is  pointed  out  in  "The  Farmer  and  His  Hounds." 
The  corruption  that  surrounds  access  to  the  great  is  vividly 
suggested  in  "  The  Sailors  in  Distress."  But  the  weaknesses  of 
the  Turkish  character  are  also  reflected  in  fables  which  contain 
but  little  vvisdom ;  the  apathy  which  puts  up  with  everything  is 
expressed  in  the  moral  of  "The  Candle";  the  want  of  enter- 
prise and  energy  which  is  characteristic  of  the  Turk,  in  "  The 
Shark  "  and  "  The  Clown  Turned  First  Soldier,  then  Mer- 
chant." 

In  the  teachings  of  all  these  apologues  there  may  be  seen 
the  same  features  of  languid  and  unresisting  acquiescence  in 
things  as  they  are,  with  a  skit  here  and  there  on  the  oppression 
and  ingratitude  of  those  in  power.  Yet  they  bear  a  reality  about 
them  which  is  lacking  in  the  artificial  productions  of  Gay 
and  Lessing.  They  come  from  the  heart  and  go  to  the  heart 
of  the  people,  and  some  of  them  are  neat  and  pointed,  if 
not  beautiful,  in  structure  and  expression.  A  collection  of  ex- 
amples from  Turkish  literature  would  be  quite  incomplete  with- 
out these  specimens  of  the  Turkish  apologues,  which  reflect  so 
plainly  the  ethical  standard  and  general  opinions  of  those  to 
whom  they  were  addressed. 


EA^yLhxcuLi 


Ol4      U/cKİt(/i^  ,    


CONTENTS 

Turkish  Fables  :  page 

The  Gardener  and  His  Wife 3 

The  Fly 4 

The  Widow  and  Her  Friend 4 

The  Two  Young  Men  and  the  Cook 5 

The  Buffaloes  and  the  Log 5 

The  Old  Man  and  His  Son 5 

The  Bird-catcher  and  the  Blackbird 6 

The  Hens  and  the  Eagles . .  6 

The  Pigeon  and  the  Painting 7 

The  Lion  and  the  Man 7 

The  Compliment  to  the  Vezir 7 

The  Ass  and  the  Frogs 8 

The  Tortoise  and  the  King  of  Animals 8 

The  Fox  and  the  Lion 8 

The  Farmer  and  His  Hounds 9 

The  Bear  and  His  Mate 9 

The  Eel  and  the  Serpent 9 

The  Sailors  in  Distress lo 

The  Father  and  Son lo 

The  Poet  and  the  Clown lo 

The  Shark 1 1 

The  Wolf,  the  Nurse,  and  the  Child 1 1 

The  Candle 12 

The  Clown,  Turned  First  Soldier,  Then  Merchant 12 

The  Two  Kings  at  War 13 

The  River  and  Its  Source 13 

The  Hunter  and  His  Hounds 14 

The  Fool  Who  Sells  Wisdom 14 

The  Dicer 15 

The  Lamb  and  the  Wolf 15 

The  Insects,  the  Bee,  and  the  Ant 15 

The  Two  Cocks 16 

The  Assembly  of  the  Birds 16 

The  Fox  and  the  Crab 16 

The  Goats  and  the  Wolves \^ 

ix 


X  CONTENTS 

Turkish  Y KB\.'^%— Continued  PACK 

The  Lion,  the  Wolf,  and  the  Fox i8 

The  Wolf  and  the  Ass i8 

The  Fox  and  the  Partridge 19 

The  Fox  and  the  Sparrow 19 

The  Syrian  Priest  and  the  Young  Man 20 

The  Converted  Cat 20 

The  Fox  and  the  Wolf 21 

The  Horse  and  His  Rider 21 

The  Rose  and  the  Butterfly 22' 

The  Archer  and  the  Trumpeter 23 

The  Wolf,  the  Fox,  and  the  Shepherd's  Dog 23 

The  Magistrates , 25 

Ottoman  Poems : 

From  the  Asheq  Pasha  Diwani 69 

From  the  iskender  Nama 69 

From  the  iskender  Nama 70 

From  Khusrev  and  Shirin 71 

From  Khusrev  and  Shirin 72 

Yaziji  Oglu 73 

Ruba'i 75 

Gazel 75 

Fragment  of  Gazel 76 

Gazel 76 

Gazel ']^ 

Fragment  of  Gazel 77 

Gazel 78 

Gazel 78 

Gazel 79 

Fragment 79 

Gazel 80 

From  the  Winter  Qasida 80 

From  the  Spring  Qasida 81 

From  the  Qasida  on  Sultan  Bayezid  II 82 

Gazel 82 

Ruba'is 83 

From  the  Spring  Qasida 83 

Murebba'. 84 

Fragment 86 

Gazel 87 

Gazel 87 

Gazel 88 


^^ 


CONTENTS  xi 

Ottoman  Fo'EUS— Continued  page 

Gazel 88 

Gazel 89 

On  Autumn 90 

On  Spring ...  90 

Rose  Time 91 

From  an  Elegy  on  Sultan  Selim  1 92 

From  an  Elegy  on  iskender  Chelebi 93 

Fragment 94 

Gazel 94 

On  the  Prophet  Muhammed 95 

Gazel 95 

Gazel 96 

Gazel 96 

Gazel 97 

Gazel 97 

Gazel 98 

Gazel 98 

Gazel 99 

Müseddes 100 

Mukhammes 102 

— -  From  Leylî  and  Mejnûn 103 

Mejnûn  Addresses  N-evfil 104 

Mejnûn's  Gazel 104 

Zeyd's  Vision 105 

Gazel 106 

Gazel 106 

Gazel 107 

Gazel 107 

Gazel 108 

From  the  King  and  the  Beggar 108 

Gazel 109 

Qalsda 109 

Gazel 112 

Gazel 113 

Gazel 113 

Gazel 114 

Gazel 1 14 

Gazel 115 

On  Autumn 115 

Gazel 116 

Gazel 116 

Gazel 116 

Gazel 117 


xii  CONTENTS 

Ottoman  Poems — Continued  page 

Elegy  on  Sultan  Süleyman  1 1 18 

Gazel 122 

Gazel 1 22 

Gazel 123 

Müseddes 123 

Gazel 125 

To  Sultan  Murâd  IV 125 

In  Reply  to  the  Preceding 1 26 

Lugaz 127 

Sachli  Zeman 127 

Jihan  Bânû 127 

Lâ'lPara 128 

Aq-Alem 128 

Müseddes 1 28 

Gazel 1 30 

Munâjât 1 30 

Mukhammes 131 

Gazel 1 33 

Munâjât 133 

Gazel 1 34 

Farewell  Poem 135 

Gazel 1 36 

Gazel 137 

Gazel 1 37 

On  a  Dancing-Girl 1 38 

Gazel 1 39 

Fragment 1 39 

Gazel 140 

Gazel 140 

The  Song  of  Love's  Nurse 141 

Love's  Song 142 

Gazel 143 

Müseddes 144 

Gazel 145 

Gazel 146 

Gazel 146 

Description  of  Circassian  Women 147 

Description  of  Greek  Women 147 

Defeat  of  the  French  in  Egypt 149 

Sharqi 152 

Sharql 153 

Gazel 1 54 

Gazel 1 54 


CONTENTS  xiii 

Ottoman  Poems — Contitmed  ,.agk 

Gazel 155 

On  the  Death  of  'Andelib  Khanim 1 56 

Takhmis 157 

Sharql 158 

Gazel 1 59 

On  a  Beyt  of  Mahmûd  Nedim  Pacha 160 

Counsels  of  Nabi  Efendi  : 

Introduction 165 

Prologue 1 67 

Details  of  Nabi's  Station 1 69 

Of  Nabi's  Motives  in  Writing  the  Book 170 

Of  the  Ranks  of  Islam .    171 

First  Duty  of  True  Religion 172 

The  Excellence  of  Prayer 172 

The  Excellence  of  Fasting 174 

Of  Pilgrimage 1 74 

The  Excellence  of  Almsgiving 1 76 

The  Desirability  of  Knowledge 1 79 

The  Knowledge  of  God 181 

Eulogy  of  Constantinople 182 

On  Flight  from  Avidity  and  Avarice 185 

Bad  Effects  of  Pleasantry  and  Jocularity 186 

Nobility  of  Generosity 187 

Eulogy  of  Good  Nature 188 

Of  Lying  and  Hypocrisy 191 

Forbidding  the  Practice  of  Astrology 192 

The  Defilement  of  Drunkenness 193 

The  Vanity  of  Adornment 194 

The  Ascension  of  Mahomet 201 

The  Rose  and  the  Nightingale: 

Prelude 231 

The  Praise  of  God 232 

An  Address  to  God's  Munificence 234 

Hymn  of  Praise  237 

Ascension  of  the  Master 240 

A  Blessing  on  the  Prophets 243 

The  Occasion  of  the  Poem 244 

Praise  of  the  Pearl  of  Lordship 248 

Beginning  of  the  Narrative 251 

Description  of  the  Rose 253 

The  Shah  Provides  a  Teacher 257 


xiv  CONTENTS 

The  Rose  and  the  Nightingale — Continued  page 

Morning  and  Evening  in  the  Rose  Garden 257 

The  Attendants  of  the  Pure  Rose 258 

Praise  of  the  Rose  in  Her  Beauty ...   261 

The  East  Wind  Finds  the  Nightingale 264 

The  East  Wind  Counsels  the  Nightingale 271 

The  Nightingale  Comes  to  the  Rose 273 

The  Nightingale  Enters  the  Rose  Garden 276 

The  Nightingale  Alone  in  the  Night 277 

The  Nightingale  Sleepless 279 

The  Nightingale  Addresses  the  Moon 281 

The  Nightingale  Talks  to  the  Dawn 282 

The  Nightingale  Addresses  the  Sun 283 

The  Nightingale  Turns  to  God 285 

The  Rose  Hears  the  Nightingale 287 

The  Narcissus  Remonstrates 289 

The  East  Wind  Meets  the  Nightingale 291 

The  East  Wind  Encourages  the  Nightingale 293 

The  Colloquy  of  the  Rose 295 

The  Nightingale  Writes  to  the  Rose 298 

The  Jasmine  Bears  the  Letter 300 

The  Rose  Answers 301 

The  Hyacinth  and  the  Nightingale 303 

The  Treachery  of  the  Hyacinth 306 

The  Thorn  Advises  the  Rose 308 

The  Thorn  Slanders  the  Nightingale 310 

Captivity  of  the  Nightingale 311 

King  August  Appears 314 

King  August  Sends  the  Hot  Wind 316 

Samum  Arrives 318 

King  August  Sends  His  Son 319 

Flight  of  Spring 321 

Autumn  Comes 323 

Autumn  Conquers  the  Rose  Garden 325 

Winter  Appears 327 

Winter  Devastates  the  Rose  Garden 328 

Spring  Seeks  Help  from  the  Equinox 331 

Spring  Vanquishes  Winter 333 

Spring  Resides  in  the  Rose  Garden 335 

The  Rose  Sends  to  the  Nightingale 336 

The  Nightingale  Hears  the  East  Wind 337 

The  Nightingale  Answers  the  East  Wind 339 

The  Rose  Visits  the  Nightingale 341 

The  Rose  Seeks  the  Release  of  the  Nightingale 343 


I 


CONTENTS  XV 

The  Rose  and  the  Nightingale — Continued  taoe 

The  Rose  Hears  of  the  Nightingale's  Release 346 

The  Feast  Given  by  the  Rose 347 

Description  of  the  Revel 350 

Short-lived  Happiness 352 

Meaning  of  the  Tale 353 

Close  of  the  Book 356 

History  of  the  Forty  Vezirs  : 

Introduction 361 

Trial  of  the  Three  Sons . 366 

Stratagem  Greater  than  Strength 374 

The  Wiles  of  Woman 379 

The  Search  for  Khizr ■ 381 

The  Vezir  and  Khizr 384 

The  Sherbet-seller  and  the  Moor 385 

The  Tailor  and  the  Woman  388 

Story  of  the  Adopted  Son 391 

The  King  and  the  Vezir 394 

The  Sparrow  and  His  Mate    396 

The  Crafty  Vezir 398 

The  Three  Princes  and  the  Cadi 401 

The  Caliph  and  the  Slave  Girl 404 

The  Foolish  Princes 405 

Story  of  the  Egyptian  Prince. 409 

The  Merchant's  Bequest 414 

The  King  and  the  Vezir's  Son 415 

The  King  and  the  Weaver 418 


o 


The  Vicissitudes  of  Life 420 

The  King  and  the  Sheykh .   426 

The  King's  Remorse 428 

Luqman's  Device 430 

The  King  and  the  Dervish 432 

Mahmud  and  Hasan 436 

Story  of  Sultan  Mahmud 438 

Story  of  the  Merchant's  Son 440 

Hasan  of  Basra 446 

The  Gardener  and  His  Son 449 

The  Dervish's  Advice 450 

The  Turkman  Children 452 

A  Queen's  Deceit 453 

The  Abdal  and  the  King 455 

The  Sultan  and  His  Traitorous  Son 456 

Conclusion 460 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING    TAGE 

Frontispiece 


Svvord-Dance  in  a  Cafe 

Photogravure  from  the  original  painting  by  Jean   Leon 
Gerome 

Terpsichore       .........     66 

Photogravure  from  the  original  painting  by  Paul  Baudry 

From  a  Firman  of  Sultan  Solomon       ....  164 
Fac- simile  manuscript  of  the  Sixteenth  Century 

The  Spirit  of  Music 228 

Photo-engraving  from  the  original  group  by  M.  Guillaume 

Page  from  the  Pandects  of  Justinian  .         .         .  358 

Fac-simile  manuscript  of  the  Sixth  Century 


TURKISH    FABLES 


[Translated  by  Epiphanius  Wilson,  A.M.] 


«X 


TURKISH   FABLES 


The  Gardener  and  His  Wife 

A  CERTAIN  Gardener  had  a  young-  and  pretty  woman  for 
his  Wife.  One  day,  when,  according  to  her  habit,  she 
had  gone  to  wash  her  Hnen  in  the  river,  the  Gardener, 
entering  his  house,  said  to  himself: 

"  I  do  not  know,  really,  whether  my  Wife  loves  me.  I 
must  put  it  to  the  test." 

On  saying  this,  he  stretched  himself  full  length  upon  the 
ground,  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  as  if  dead.  Soon,  his  Wife 
returned,  carrying  her  linen,  and  perceived  her  husband's  con- 
dition. 

"  Tired  and  hungry  as  I  am,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  is  it 
necessary  that  I  should  begin  at  once  to  mourn  and  lament? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  begin  by  eating  a  morsel  of  some- 
thing?" 

She  accordingly  cut  off  a  piece  of  pasterma  (dried  smoked 
meat),  and  set  it  to  roast  on  the  coals ;  then  she  hurriedly 
went  upstairs  to  the  garret,  took  a  pot  of  milk,  drank  some  of 
it,  and  put  the  rest  on  the  fire.  At  this  moment,  an  old  woman, 
her  neighbor,  entered,  with  an  earthen  vessel  in  her  hand,  and 
asked  for  some  burning  coals. 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  this  pot,"  she  said  to  the  old  woman, 
rising  to  her  feet.     Then  she  burst  into  sobs  and  lamentations. 

"  Alas !  "  she  cried,  "  my  poor  husband  is  dead !  " 

The  neighbors,  who  heard  her  voice,  rushed  in,  and  the  de- 
ceitful hussy  kept  on  repeating : 

"  Alas !  What  a  wretched  fate  has  my  husband  met  with !  " 
and  tears  flowed  afresh. 

At  that  instant  the  dead  man  opened  his  eyes. 

"  What  are  you  doing?"  he  said  to  her.     "  Finish  first  the 

3 


4  TURKISH   FABLES 

roasting  of  the  pasterma,  quenching  your  throat  in  milk,  and 

•.  boiling",  thç: '.rertıaînder  of  it;  afterward  you  will  find  time  to 

*  Vv'eep  i6\'  rne.''     ■ 

.•.  .  .'.  -Fir^t.  iJlV-seh',  .and  fhen  those  I  love,  says  a  proverb. 
»•••••f  •    ■      ...... 

The  Fly 

A  Fly  who  had  carelessly  fallen  into  a  pot  full  of  food  was 
at  the  point  of  death. 

"What  does  it  matter?"  she  said,  "so  long  as  hereafter  I 
shall  feel  no  more  hunger,  and  for  the  present  have  eaten  and 
drunk  my  fill,  and  have  received  a  good  bath." 

Patiently  to  accept  the  misfortunes  which  can  neither  be 
hindered  nor  avoided  is  a  proof  of  wisdom. 

The  Widow  and  Her  Friend 

A  Widow,  tired  of  single  blessedness,  was  desirous  of  marry- 
ing again,  but  feared  to  draw  down  upon  herself  the  remarks  of 
the  public. 

A  Friend  of  hers,  to  show  her  how  the  tongues  of  neighbors 
discussed  everything,  took  in  hand  to  paint  the  Widow's  ass 
green;  then  leading  the  beast,  she  traversed  all  the  streets  of 
the  town. 

At  first  not  only  the  children,  but  also  their  elders,  who  had 
never  seen  anything  like  it  before,  came  to  see  the  sight,  and 
followed  behind  the  ass. 

At  the  end  of  a  few  days,  when  the  Widow's  ass  went 
forth  people  simply  remarked :  "  What  a  very  singular  ani- 
mal !  " 

Soon,  however,  the  people  ceased  to  pay  any  more  attention 
to  the  spectacle. 

The  Friend  of  the  Widow  who  wished  to  marry  again  re- 
turned to  her  and  said : 

"  You  have  seen  what  has  just  happened.  It  will  be  the 
same  in  your  case.  For  some  days  you  will  be  on  the  tongues 
of  the  people  and  have  to  endure  the  gossip  and  remarks; 
but  at  last  they  will  leave  ofif  talking  about  you." 

There  is  nothing  so  extraordinary  in  the  world  as  not  to 
become  familiar  in  time. 


THE   OLD   MAN    AND   HIS   SON 


The  Two  Young  Men  and  the  Cook 

Two  Young  Men  entered  a  cook-shop  for  the  purpose  of  buy- 
ing some  meat. 

While  the  Cook  was  engaged  in  serving  one  of  them  the 
other  seized  a  huge  piece  of  meat  and  popped  it  into  his  com- 
panion's pocket. 

The  Cook  began  looking  about  for  his  meat,  but  in  vain. 
Then  he  addressed  the  two  friends. 

"  I  have  not  seen  it,"  said  one. 

"  As  for  me,"  added  the  other,  "  I  am  sure  I  have  not 
taken  it." 

Then  each  one  confirmed  his  statement  with  an  oath. 

"  Really,  gentlemen,"  said  the  owner  of  the  shop,  who  well 
understood  their  rascality,  "  although  I  do  not  know  who  has 
robbed  me,  the  God  by  whom  you  have  sworn  does." 

Although  a  man  may  conceal  things  from  men  like  him- 
self, God  is  not  deceived. 

The  Buffaloes  and  the  Log 

A  pair  of  Buffaloes  were  harnessed  to  a  heavy  piece  of  elm 
wood,  and  were  dragging  it  along. 

"  You  are  stupid,"  said  the  Log,  reproachfully,  "  for  when 
you  are  hitched  to  a  light  burden  like  me,  why  do  you  not 
gallop?" 

"  Poor  wretch !  "  they  replied,  "  we  should  doubtlessly  move 
more  quickly  if  we  were  not  fastened  to  you.  But  if  we 
moved  quickly  now,  another  log  would  be  placed  on  top  of 
you,  to  make  up  the  load,  and  we  do  not  wish  to  see  you  broken 
down  by  exhaustion." 

This  answer  plunged  the  Log  into  profound  thought. 

The  proverbial  expression — "  the  Buffaloes'  answer  " — a  pre- 
text for  laziness — is  founded  on  this  fable. 

The  Old  Man  and  His  Son    . 

A  feeble  Old  Man  had  given  his  home  to  his  Son ;  soon  the 
hapless  father  found  himself  driven  from  his  home  and  forced 
to  take  refuge  in  a  hospital. 


6  TURKISH   FABLES 

Some  time  afterward,  he  saw  his  Son  one  day  passing  by, 
and  called  out  to  him. 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  my  Son,"  he  said  in  a  supplicating 
tone,  "  send  me  out  of  all  that  I  have  gained  with  the  sweat  of 
my  brow  a  simple  pair  of  sheets." 

The  Son  promised  his  unfortunate  father  to  do  so. 

"  I  will  send  them  at  once,"  he  answered  him. 

When  he  arrived  at  home  he  said  to  his  own  son :  "  Take 
this  pair  of  sheets,  and  carry  them  to  your  grandfather  at  the 
hospital." 

The  young  man  left  one  of  the  sheets  at  home  and  carried 
the  other  to  his  grandfather.  Some  time  afterward  his  father 
happened  to  count  his  sheets. 

"  Why  didn't  you  do  as  I  told  you,  and  carry  the  two  sheets 
to  your  grandfather  ?  "  he  asked  of  his  son. 

"  When  my  father  becomes  old  and  goes  to  the  hospital, 
I  said  to  myself,  I  shall  need  this  sheet  to  send  to  him." 

Your  child  will  behave  toward  you  as  you  behaved  toward 
your  parents. 

The  Bird-catcher  and  the  Blackbird 

A  Bird-catcher  was  setting  his  snares ;  a  Blackbird,  as  he 
flew  by,  caught  sight  of  him. 

"  For  the  love  of  God,"  he  said  to  him,  "  do  tell  me  what  you 
are  building  there?" 

"  I  am  founding  a  complete  city." 

The  Blackbird  believed  this  deceitful  answer,  and  alighted 
on  the  net.  Scarcely  had  he  touched  it,  before  he  found  him- 
self caught. 

When  the  Bird-catcher  came  up  the  Blackbird  said  to  him : 
"  If  this  is  the  way  you  build  your  city,  you  won't  attract 
many  inhabitants." 

All  men  shun  tyrannical  magistrates  and  oppressors,  who, 
by  their  violence,  scatter  ruin  around  them. 

The  Hens  and  the  Eagles 

The  Hens  were  at  war  with  the  Eagles. 

When  the  day  of  battle  came  near,  the  Hens  went  and  asked 
the  foxes  to  help  them. 


THE   COMPLIMENT   TO   THE   VEZIR  7 

"  We  would  willingly  help  you,"  replied  the  foxes,  "  if  we 
could  forget  what  you  are,  and  what  Eagles  are." 

He  who  enters  upon  a  quarrel  with  one  more  powerful  than 
himself  runs  a  great  risk,  and  is  certain  to  meet  with  disaster. 

The  Pigeon  and  the  Painting 

A  Pigeon  in  its  simplicity  took  for  real  water  the  stream  rep- 
resented in  a  Painting. 

He  flew  down  toward  it  with  a  sudden  swoop,  fell  to  the 
ground,  and  was  quickly  caught. 

How  many  stupid  and  ignorant  people  ignore  the  real  con- 
dition of  things,  follow  entirely  their  own  silly  notions,  and  at 
last  find  themselves  in  serious  trouble ! 

The  Lion  andi  the  Man 

A  Lion  and  a  Man  were  journeying  together  as  friends  ;  they 
took  turns  in  boasting  each  of  his  own  merits.  As  they  ad- 
vanced on  their  way,  they  saw  a  mausoleum  on  which  was 
carved  in  marble  a  man  trampling  a  lion  under  his  feet. 

The  Man  called  the  attention  of  the  Lion  to  this  sculpture. 

"  I  need  say  no  more,"  he  remarked,  "  this  is  sufficient  to  show 
that  man  surpasses  the  Lion  in  strength  and  vigor." 

"  The  chisel  is  in  the  hands  of  men,"  replied  the  beast,  "  so 
they  represent  in  sculpture  whatever  they  like.  If  we  could  han- 
dle it  as  you  do,  you  would  see  what  would  be  the  subjects  of  our 
works." 

Artists  do  not  base  their  creations  upon  the  realities  of  life, 
but  follow  the  ideas  which  pass  through  their  heads. 

The  Compliment  to  the  Vezir 

A  Vezir  had  just  received  his  appointment ;  those  who  had 
supported  him  came  to  compliment  him  on  his  promotion  to  a 
post  of  honor. 

He  was  so  inflated  by  the  homage  he  received,  that  he  came  at 
last  to  pass  by  his  former  friends  without  noticing  them. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  asked  one  of  them. 

"  My  God,"  exclaimed  the  other,  who  was  a  wit :  "  I  feel 
sorry  for  you  indeed,  for  your  Excellency,  like  most  of  those  who 


8  TURKISH   FABLES 

have  reached  an  eminent  position,  has  suddenly  lost  sight,  hear- 
ing, and  memory,  so  that  you  no  longer  know  your  former 
friends." 

It  generally  happens  that  those  who  attain  to  high  station  feel 
contempt  for  their  friends. 

The  Ass  and  the  Frogs 

An  Ass  was  walking  along  loaded  with  wood;  as  he  jour- 
neyed he  fell  into  a  pond,  and  lamented  because  he  could  not 
get  out. 

The  Frogs,  dwellers  in  the  pond,  heard  his  cries  and  came 
up  to  him. 

"  Pray  tell  us,"  they  said  to  him,  "  how  is  it  that  you,  who 
have  been  but  a  moment  in  this  pond,  cry  out  so  vehemently. 
What  would  you  do,  if  like  us,  you  had  been  here  for  an  infinite 
time?" 

Such  were  the  sarcastic  consolations  they  addressed  to  him. 

Young  people  full  of  vigor,  and  capable  of  enduring  all  sorts 
of  hardship,  too  often  deride  the  feebleness  of  the  old. 

The  Tortoise  and  the  King  of  Animals 

The  quadrupeds  and  birds  assembled  one  day  at  an  entertain- 
ment given  by  the  King  of  Beasts.  Both  those  who  go  on  foot 
and  those  who  fly  were  there. 

The  Tortoise  arrived  late  because  of  his  slow  motion,  and 
asked  pardon  for  his  want  of  punctuality. 

"  I  have  such  a  pleasant  home,"  said  he,  "  that  I  never  leave 
it  without  regret." 

"  At  some  future  time,"  cried  the  Lion  in  a  rage,  "  you  will 
have  a  house  of  stone  which  you  can  never  leave." 

This  fable  is  addressed  to  those  who,  instead  of  keeping  to 
their  own  vocation,  are  anxious  to  attend  the  entertainments  of 
the  great. 

The  Fox  and  the  Lion 

A  Fox  who  had  never  seen  a  lion  in  his  life,  met  one  of  the 
greatest  size.  In  his  terror  and  surprise,  he  thought  that  his  last 
hour  had  come.  At  the  second  meeting,  he  was  still  somewhat 
alarmed,  but  less  so  than  at  first.    At  the  third  sight  of  the  Lion, 


THE    EEL    AND   THE    SERPENT  9 

he  felt  no  fear  at  all,  but  walked  up  to  the  Lion  and  began  to 
converse  with  him. 

By  force  of  habit  we  become  enabled  to  confront,  unmoved, 
things  the  most  terrible  and  dangerous. 

The  Farmer  and  His  Hounds 

A  Farmer  who  lived  remote  from  the  city,  was  kept  at  home 
by  the  severity  of  the  winter.  Soon,  his  provisions  were  ex- 
hausted, and  finally,  he  was  compelled  to  kill  his  great  black 
oxen. 

On  seeing  this,  his  Hounds  gathered  together. 

"  If  this  man,"  said  they,  "  butchers  such  strong  oxen  as  these, 
the  mainstay  of  his  house,  do  you  think  he  will  spare  us  ?  Let 
us  make  our  escape !  " 

Keep  away  from  the  man  who  without  hesitation  does  injury 
to  everyone  else.  To  avoid  him  is  a  matter  of  haste  and  neces- 
sity. 

The  Bear  and  His  Mate 

A  Bear,  in  struggling  with  his  Mate,  used  his  claws  with  such 
violence  that  he  tore  her  eyes  out.  He  was  immediately  seized 
with  such  sorrow  that  he  bit  off  his  own  claws. 

A  short  time  afterward,  he  conversed  with  her  in  a  friendly 
manner  in  his  cave. 

"  My  dear,"  he  remarked  to  her,  "  for  your  sake,  I  have  sacri- 
ficed my  weapons  of  war." 

"  What  good,"  said  she,  "  is  that  to  me,  now  that  I  am  blind, 
and  deprived  by  you  of  my  precious  eyes  ?  " 

Repentance  cannot  repair  an  injury  once  inflicted. 

The  Eel  and  the  Serpent 

The  Eel  and  the  Serpent  were  talking  together. 

"  Why  is  it,"  said  the  Eel,  "  that  I,  although  I  undoubtedly  re- 
semble you,  in  every  point,  am  hunted  by  men,  while  they  leave 
you  in  peace  ?  " 

"  Because,  if  they  caught  me,  they  would  do  it  to  their 
cost." 

No  one  attacks  the  person  who  always  repays  an  injury. 


lo  TURKISH   FABLES 


The  Sailors  in  Distress 

A  ship  at  sea  was  caught  in  a  violent  tempest.  The  crew, 
seeing  her  on  the  point  of  foundering,  began  to  address  their 
prayers,  some  to  one  saint,  some  to  another,  imploring  them  to 
intercede  with  the  Almighty,  that  the  suppliants  might  be  de- 
livered in  their  extremity. 

While  they  thus  poured  out  their  prayers  the  Captain  re- 
mained unmoved.  "  Fools !  "  he  said  at  length,  "  before  your 
patron  saints  have  time  to  carry  their  prayers  to  God,  and  he  has 
given  them  a  hearing,  all  of  those  on  board  this  ship  will  be 
drowned.  Let  us  address  our  prayers  directly  to  the  Most  High, 
and  implore  his  help !  " 

In  obedience  to  the  suggestion  of  their  Captain,  the  Sailors 
cried  out  aloud  to  God  himself,  and  were  saved. 

When  a  man  of  brains  and  intelligence  wishes  to  ask  a  favor 
of  the  great,  he  avoids  addressing  subordinates. 

The  Father  and  Son 

A  certain  Father  had  a  Son  of  extremely  bad  habits. 

"  He  who  abandons  himself  to  vicious  irregularities,  and  wan- 
ders from  the  straight  path,"  he  said  to  him,  "  gains  nothing  but 
shame  and  disgrace." 

It  was  thus  he  used  to  speak  to  him  plainly,  and  give  him 
good  counsel  and  advice. 

"  These,"  answered  the  Son,  "  are  words  empty  and  irra- 
tional !  " 

"  Alas,"  cried  the  Father,  "  can  I  listen  to  such  words !  " 

"  When  you  consider,"  went  on  the  Son,  "  that  I  have  contin- 
ued deaf  to  the  admonitions  of  the  most  famous  preachers,  who 
are  always  talking  of  virtue  to  me,  do  you  think  I  could  listen  to 
you?" 

He  whose  natural  disposition  is  coarse  and  vicious,  would  not 
give  up  his  criminal  and  debauched  way  of  life,  even  if  Plato,  or 
the  very  angels  of  paradise,  appealed  to  him. 

The  Poet  and  the  Clown 

A  certain  countryman,  who  was  engaged  in  sowing  his  field, 
saw  a  man  of  letters,  who  was  also  a  Poet,  approaching : 


THE   WOLF,  THE    NURSE,  AND   THE   CHILD  n 

"  Sir,"  said  the  Clown  to  him,  "  how  can  you  study,  as  you 
do,  in  soHtude?  " 

"  I  am  a  Poet,"  replied  the  other ;  "  at  first  I  studied  in  com- 
pany with  others,  but  now  I  go  on  in  my  education  alone." 

The  uneducated  man  who  begins  by  seeking  the  society  of  the 
learned,  in  this  way  becomes  educated.  In  time  he  grows  capa- 
ble of  finishing  his  education,  unaided  by  others. 

The  Shark 

A  Shark,  taking  up  his  station  at  the  mouth  of  a  river,  ruled 
over  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  waters.  As  he  conducted  himself 
with  extreme  violence  toward  them,  they  showed  every  sign  of 
submissiveness.  He  had,  in  fact,  become  their  King,  and  they 
treated  him  as  such. 

The  Shark  was  unduly  elated  by  his  situation.  "  Wherefore," 
said  he  to  himself,  "  should  I  not  extend  my  dominion  still 
farther  ?  " 

Taking  advantage  of  a  favorable  opportunity,  he  left  the 
river  and  went  out  to  sea,  with  a  view  of  expanding  his  do- 
main. "  I  must  now  subjugate  the  fishes  who  dwell  here,"  he 
remarked. 

He  was  thus  dreaming  of  ocean  conquest,  when  he  met  the 
whale.  Seized  with  alarm,  and  frozen  with  terror,  the  would- 
be  conqueror  fled,  and  regained  the  mouth  of  the  river,  feel- 
ing quite  dejected.  Henceforth  he  was  very  careful  not  to 
leave  his  lurking-place. 

Let  us  beware  of  giving  up  a  satisfactory  position,  in  pursuit 
of  vainglory,  and  for  the  sake  of  increasing  our  power ;  in  all 
cases  let  us  limit  our  desires. 


The  Wolf,  the  Nurse,  and  the  Child 

A  certain  Wolf  was  wandering  round  in  search  of  prey.  He 
entered  a  village  and  heard  a  Child  crying. 

"What  are  you  crying  for?"  asked  the  Child's  old  Nurse. 
"  Unless  you  stop  I  will  give  you  to  the  Wolf." 

Some  time  afterward,  when  the  Child  had  stopped  crying,  the 
old  woman  began  to  flatter  and  humor  him.  "  If  the  Wolf 
comes,"  said  she,  "  we  will  tie  him  fast,  then  we  will  give  him 


12  TURKISH   FABLES 

a  beating,  and  hit  him  so  hard  that  it  will  kill  him,  and  after 
that  we  will  give  him  to  the  cat." 

"  Lord  deliver  us  from  the  people  of  this  house !  "  cried  the 
Wolf,  on  hearing  these  words.  "  Nothing  is  less  to  be  relied 
upon  than  their  words ;  one  moment  they  speak  in  one  way,  and 
the  next  in  another !  " 

Saying  this,  he  took  himself  off,  and  hurriedly  retired. 

Do  not  trust  the  promises  of  people  whose  word  is  as  change- 
able as  the  color  of  the  chameleon. 

The  Candle 

A  Candle,  made  of  soft  and  pliant  wax,  lamented  over  the  fact 
that  the  slightest  touch  injured  it.  It  did  nothing  but  sigh,  and 
burst  out  into  bitter  complaints  against  its  dismal  lot,  espe- 
cially dwelling  upon  the  fact  that  bricks,  although  at  first  tender 
and  pasty,  grow  hard  from  heat  and  thus  acquire  an  age-long 
durability.  In  order  to  acquire  the  same  hardness,  and  to  reap 
the  same  advantages,  it  leaped  into  the  fire,  melted,  and  was  con- 
sumed. 

It  is  useless  to  rise  up  in  irritation  and  revolt  against  the  dis- 
advantages which  are  inherent  in  our  nature,  our  constitution, 
or  our  position. 

The  Clown  Turned  First  Soldier,  Then  Merchant 

A  certain  Clown,  occupied  in  cultivating  his  field,  guided  the 
plough  now  this  way,  now  that,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  task  felt 
sorry  that  he  had  not  been  more  favored  by  fortune. 

A  number  of  volunteers,  who  formed  part  of  a  brigade,  which 
had  just  come  back  victorious  from  war,  happened  at  this  mo- 
ment to  pass  by,  loaded  with  rich  and  abundant  booty,  and  plen- 
tifully supplied  with  provisions.  Moved  by  the  sight  of  them, 
the  laborer  set  to  work  to  sell  his  sheep,  goats,  and  oxen ;  with 
the  price  received  for  these  he  collected  horses,  weapons,  and 
ammunition,  wath  a  view  of  joining  the  army  on  campaign. 
Just  on  his  arrival,  this  army  was  beaten  by  the  enemy,  and 
utterly  routed ;  the  baggage  of  the  new-comer  was  seized,  and 
he  himself  returned  home,  crippled  with  wounds. 

"  I  am  disgusted  with  the  military  profession,"  he  said,  "  and 


THE   RIVER   AND   ITS   SOURCE 


13 


I  am  going  to  be  a  business  man.  In  spite  of  my  slender  income 
I  shall  be  able  to  realize  great  profits  in  trade." 

He  accordingly  sold  his  remaining  arms  and  ammunition,  and 
employed  the  proceeds  in  the  purchase  of  goods  which  he  put 
on  board  a  ship  and  embarked  himself  as  passenger.  As  soon 
as  they  had  put  to  sea,  a  tempest  fell  upon  the  ship,  which  went 
down  with  the  IVIerchant  on  board. 

He  who  seeks  for  a  better  position  in  life,  finds  a  worse  one 
and  falls  at  last  into  misery.  Do  not  try  to  learn  by  experience 
the  disadvantages  of  each  several  condition. 

The  Two  Kings  at  War 

A  King,  the  hero  of  his  age,  had  declared  war  upon  one  of  his 
neighbors.  The  enemy  for  want  of  resources,  had  not  been 
able  to  make  sufficient  preparations,  and  did  not  know  how  to 
meet  the  emergency.    He  sent  out  a  spy  to  meet  the  foe. 

The  fellow,  gazing  from  a  distance,  saw  advancing  a  count- 
less multitude  of  soldiers,  armed  with  lances. 

He  immediately  turned  and  galloped  back  to  his  sovereign. 

"  My  Lord,"  he  said,  "  you  are  about  to  be  attacked  by  an 
army  as  numerous  as  current  coin,  for  I  saw  advancing  such  a 
crowd  of  lances  that  they  hide  the  sun  from  us." 

"  Take  this  robe  of  honor,"  said  the  monarch ;  "  please  God 
we  shall  fight  to-day  in  the  shadow  of  the  enemy." 

By  this  warlike  answer,  he  was  able  to  inspire  his  troops  with 
a  daring  and  courage  which  were  invincible. 

He  who  suffers  himself  neither  to  be  cast  down  by  alarm  nor 
dismayed  by  danger  can  surmount  every  obstacle. 

The  River  and  Its  Source 

A  River  one  day  said  to  its  Source :  "  How  idle  and  good- 
for-nothing  you  are !  In  spite  of  your  incessant  movement  you 
do  not  contain  the  slightest  quantity  of  fish !  In  me,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  seen  more  choice  fishes  swimming  than  in  any  other 
watercourse ;  thus  I  produce  joy  and  happiness  in  all  the 
plains  and  their  inhabitants,  through  which  I  pass !  You  seem 
to  me  to  be  a  corpse,  from  which  life  has  completely  vanished." 

The  Source,  indignant  at  these  insulting  words,  made  no 
reply,  but  began  to  diminish  the  quantity  of  water  which  she 


14 


TURKISH    FABLES 


furnished  to  the  River ;  soon  she  entirely  ceased  to  feed  it. 
By  this  means  the  height  of  the  flood  sank  gradually,  until 
at  last  water  failed  entirely,  and  River  and  fish  disappeared 
together. 

This  fable  is  addressed  to  those  who  treat  their  friends  in  a 
similar  manner  and  imagine  that  their  prosperity  is  specially 
and  directly  due  to  the  munificence  of  God. 

An  ungrateful  man,  says  the  poet,  is  one  who  addresses  no 
thanks  to  Divine  Providence  for  the  innumerable  gifts  show- 
ered upon  him :  he  is  a  blasphemer,  as  well  as  an  ingrate,  who 
is  grateful  toward  no  one  excepting  the  giver  of  them  all. 

The  Hunter  and  His  Hounds 

A  certain  Hunter,  who  was  seized  with  an  ardent  desire  to 
make  his  prey  a  superb  anqua,^  spent  large  sums  of  money  in 
the  keeping  of  Hounds.  By  accident,  one  of  his  bitches  bit  his 
son,  and  the  child  died  of  the  wound. 

"  Since  the  Hounds  have  caused  his  death,"  said  the  master 
to  the  servants,  "  let  us  kill  them  all." 

"  Alas !  "  cried  one  of  the  poor  creatures,  "  all  of  us  must 
die  for  the  fault  committed  by  a  single  one  of  us !  " 

A  single  scoundrel  is  sufficient  to  bring  ruin  on  a  whole  ward. 

The  Fool  Who  Sells  Wisdom 

A  certain  Fool  kept  constantly  passing  through  the  streets 
of  a  town. 

"  Who  will  buy  Wisdom  ?  "  he  cried  in  a  loud  voice.  A 
passer-by  met  him  on  his  way,  accosted  him,  and  presented  him 
with  some  small  pieces  of  money. 

"  Sell  me  a  little  Wisdom,"  he  said. 

"  Here  it  is,"  replied  the  other,  cuffing  him  heartily.  Imme- 
diately afterward  he  put  into  his  hands  a  long  thread. 

"  If  you  wish  in  future  to  be  wise  and  prudent,"  said  the 
Fool  to  him,  "  always  keep  as  far  away  from  fools  as  the 
length  of  this  thread." 

We  should  avoid  all  connection  and  communication  with 
fools  and  cranks. 

1  A  fabulous  bird,  a  species  of  vulture  or  gigantic  condor. 


THE    INSECTS,  THE   BEE,  AND   THE   ANT  15 

The  Dicer 

A  Dicer  one  day  lost  at  play  all  that  he  possessed,  even  to 
his  clothes.  Sitting  at  the  door  of  a  wine  shop  he  burst  into 
tears. 

One  of  his  friends  happened  to  pass,  and  noticed  the  state 
he  was  in. 

"  Have  you  anything  the  matter  with  you  that  you  are  so 
mournful,  my  friend  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  I  have  nothing,"  replied  the  other. 

"  Nothing?  "  went  on  the  other.  "  Then  there  is  no  reason 
for  weeping." 

"  It  is  really  because  I  have  nothing  that  I  weep,"  replied  he. 

Numerous  are  the  applications  of  this  profound  fable. 

The  Lamb  and  the  Wolf 

A  tender  lamb  was  in  the  fold,  when  suddenly  a  Wolf  en- 
tered for  the  purpose  of  devouring  her.  Throwing  herself  at 
the  feet  of  the  Wolf,  she  said,  weeping :  "  God  has  put  me 
in  your  power ;  sound  therefore  your  horn  in  order  to  grant 
me  one  moment's  delight ;  my  desires  will  then  be  perfectly 
satisfied,  for  my  parents  have  told  me  that  the  race  of  wolves 
are  the  best  players  on  the  horn."  The  Wolf  heard  this  silly 
proposal,  and  set  himself  to  cry  out  with  all  his  might  and 
main ;  when  lo  and  behold,  the  dogs  were  waked  up  and  at- 
tacked him.  He  took  to  flight,  and  did  not  stop  until  he  reached 
a  hill,  where  he  said,  lamenting :  "  I  certainly  deserve  this 
mishap,  for  who  has  made  me  a  musician,  when  I  have  never 
been  anything  but  a  butcher  ?  " 

This  fable  proves  that  many  good  people  are  deceived  by 
attending  to  silly  proposals,  and  afterward,  like  the  Wolf,  are 
sorry  for  it ;  and  that  many  others  undertake,  either  in  word 
or  deed,  things  for  which  they  are  not  adapted,  and  conse- 
quently fall  into  misfortune. 

The  Insects,  the  Bee,  and  the  Ant 

The  Insects  betook  themselves  one  winter  to  the  dwellings 
of  the  Bee  and  the  Ant. 

"  Give  us  some  food,"  they  said,  "  for  we  are  dying  of  hun- 
ger. 


i6  TURKISH   FABLES 

The  others  answered :  "  What  do  you  do  in  summer  time  ?  " 

"  We  rest  on  the  spreading  trees,"  they  repHed,  "  and  we 
cheer  the  traveller  with  our  pleasant  songs." 

"  If  that  be  so,"  was  the  reply,  "  it  is  no  wonder  that  you  are 
dying  of  hunger;  you  are  therefore  no  proper  objects  of  char- 
ity." 

This  fable  shows  that  the  foolish  virgins  ask  charity,  and 
those  who  are  wise  refuse  to  give,  because  there  comes  a  time 
when  not  charity  but  justice  is  to  be  rendered. 

During  the  time  of  this  life,  which  is  our  summer,  we  must 
gather,  by  wisdom  and  industry,  the  spiritual  food,  without 
which,  we  shall  be  made,  at  the  day  of  judgment,  to  die  of 
hunger  in  hell. 

The  Two  Cocks 

Two  Cocks  were  fighting  in  the  middle  of  a  street;  he  who 
defeated  his  comrade  and  flung  him  to  the  ground  was  inflated 
with  pride  at  his  victory. 

He  flew  off,  and  taking  his  station  on  a  high  place,  began 
to  swagger  up  and  down  and  to  crow,  elated  with  victory. 
While  he  thus  exhibited  his  vanity  an  eagle  unexpectedly 
swooped  down  upon  him  and  carried  him  off. 

This  fable  shows  that  he  who  rejoices  over  the  defeat  of  his 
adversary,  or  plumes  himself  upon  victory  over  a  foe,  brings 
upon  his  own  head,  without  knowing  it,  torments  and  suffer- 
ings which  will  compel  him  to  deplore  his  own  lot. 

The  Assembly  of  the  Birds 

The  Birds  gathered  together  and  elected  the  Peacock  and 
crowned  him  King,  on  account  of  his  great  beauty. 

Then  the  Dove  came  to  him  and  said :  "  O  excellent  King, 
if  the  Eagles  harass  us,  how  will  you  be  able  to  bring  help  ?  " 

This  fable  shows  that  beauty  is  not  the  sole  attribute  to  be 
sought  for  in  a  king,  but  that  he  is  required  to  show  on  every 
occasion,  courage,  military  valor,  and  ripe  wisdom. 

The  Fox  and  the  Crab 

The  Fox  and  the  Crab  lived  together  like  brothers ;  together 
they  sowed  their  land,  reaped  the  harvest,  thrashed  the  grain 
and  garnered  it. 


THE   GOATS   AND    THE  WOLVES  17 

The  Fox  said  one  day :  "  Let  us  go  to  the  hill-top,  and  who- 
ever reaches  it  first  shall  carry  off  the  grain  for  his  own." 

While  they  were  mounting  the  steep  the  Crab  said: 

"  Do  me  a  favor ;  before  you  set  off  running,  touch  me  with 
your  tail,  so  that  I  shall  know  it  and  be  able  to  follow  you." 

The  Crab  opened  his  claws,  and  when  the  Fox  touched  him 
with  his  tail,  he  leaped  forward  and  seized  it,  so  that  when  the 
Fox  reached  the  goal  and  turned  round  to  see  where  the  Crab 
was,  the  latter  fell  upon  the  heap  of  grain  and  said :  "  These 
three  bushels  and  a  half  are  all  mine."  The  Fox  was  thunder- 
struck and  exclaimed: 

"How  did  you  get  here,  you  rascal?" 

This  fable  shows  that  deceitful  men  devise  many  methods 
and  actions  for  getting  things  their  own  way,  but  that  they  are 
often  defeated  by  the  feeble. 

The  Goats  and  the  Wolves 

All  the  Goats  gathered  together  and  sent  a  message  to  the 
nation  of  the  Wolves.  "  Wherefore,"  said  they,  "  do  you 
make  upon  us  this  ceaseless  war  ?  We  beseech  you,  make  peace 
with  us,  as  the  kings  of  nations  are  wont  to  do." 

The  Wolves  assembled  in  great  joy,  and  sent  a  long  letter 
and  many  presents  to  the  nation  of  the  Goats.  And  they  said 
to  them: 

"  We  have  learned  your  excellent  resolution  and  we  have 
rendered  thanks  to  God  for  it.  The  news  of  this  peace  will 
occasion  great  joy  in  the  world.  But  we  beg  to  inform  your 
wisdom  that  the  shepherd  and  his  dog  are  the  causes  of  all 
our  differences  and  quarrels ;  if  you  make  an  end  of  them,  tran- 
quillity will  soon  return." 

On  learning  this,  the  Goats  drove  away  the  shepherds  and 
their  dogs,  and  ratified  a  treaty  of  peace  and  friendship  with  the 
Wolves. 

The  Goats  then  went  out  and  scattered  themselves  without 
fear  among  the  hills  and  valleys,  and  began  to  feed  and  render 
thanks  to  God.  The  Wolves  w^aited  for  ten  days,  then  they 
gathered  themselves  together  against  the  Goats,  and  strangled 
them  every  one. 

This  fable  shows  that  hatred  and  aversion  between  nations 


i8  TURKISH   FABLES 

and  families,  or  between  individuals,  is  deeply  rooted  in  the 
heart  of  man,  and  that  peace  and  friendship  are  not  established 
among  them,  excepting  with  the  greatest  difficulty. 


The  Lion,  the  Wolf,  and  the  Fox 

The  Lion,  the  Wolf,  and  the  Fox,  having  made  an  alliance, 
went  forth  to  hunt,  and  captured  a  ram,  a  sheep,  and  a  lamb. 

When  dinner  time  came  the  Lion  said  to  the  Wolf,  "  Divide 
the  prey  among  us." 

The  Wolf  replied :  "  O  King,  God  apportions  them  thus : 
the  ram  is  for  you,  the  sheep  for  me,  and  the  lamb  for  the  Fox." 

The  Lion  flew  into  a  violent  rage  at  this  and  gave  the  Wolf 
a  blow  upon  the  cheek  that  made  his  eyes  bulge  out.  He  re- 
tired in  bitter  tears. 

Then  the  Lion  addressed  the  Fox,  bidding  him  apportion 
the  prey. 

"  O  King,"  he  answered,  "  God  has  already  apportioned  it. 
The  ram  is  for  your  dinner,  we  will  join  you  in  eating  the 
sheep,  and  you  shall  sup  upon  the  lamb." 

"  Little  rogue  of  a  Fox,"  said  the  Lion,  "  who  taught  you 
to  apportion  things  with  such  equity  ?  " 

"  The  starting  eyes  of  the  Wolf  taught  me  that,"  replied  the 
Fox. 

This  fable  shows  that  many  wicked  men  see  the  error  of 
their  ways,  and  amend,  so  soon  as  kings  and  princes  cause 
robbers  and  malefactors  to  be  hanged. 

The  Wolf  and  the  Ass 

The  Wolf  having  come  upon  an  Ass  who  was  in  prime  con- 
dition wished  to  eat  him. 

Then  the  Ass  said :  "  I  beseech  you,  Mr.  Wolf,  cure  me 
of  a  wound  which  I  have  in  the  foot ;  an  abominable  nail  has 
pierced  it,  and  produces  intense  suffering.  Afterward,  you  can 
eat  me,  for  God  has  destined  me  to  be  your  food." 

The  Wolf  accordingly  went  behind  the  Ass  for  the  purpose 
of  extracting  the  nail ;  but  at  that  moment  the  Ass  flung  out 
a  kick  with  all  his  strength,  which  struck  the  Wolf  and 
smashed  his  teeth.    The  Wolf,  weeping  bitterly,  reflected: 


THE   FOX   AND   THE   SPARROW  19 

"  It  is  right  that  I  suffer  this  disaster,  for  being  by  nature  a 
butcher,  no  one  can  make  a  blacksmith  of  me." 

This  fable  shows  many  people  are  filled  with  sorrow  and 
regret,  from  attempting  to  practise  arts  and  accomplishments 
which  they  have  never  learned,  and  which  are  unsuited  to  their 
life. 

The  Fox  and'  the  Partridge 

The  Fox  having  caught  a  Partridge  was  preparing  to  eat  it. 
But  the  latter  said : 

"  Blessed  be  God,  who  calls  me  to  his  kingdom,  and  delivers 
me  from  the  evils  of  this  world.  But  do  you,  Mr.  Fox,  render 
thanks  to  God  for  this  feast  upon  me,  which  will  be  your  great 
reward." 

The  Fox  sat  down,  looked  up  to  heaven,  and  opened  his 
mouth,  saying: 

"  I  thank  thee,  gracious  God,  for  the  excellent  feast  thou 
hast  prepared  for  me." 

As  he  spoke,  the  Partridge  slipped  from  his  jaws,  and  flew 
away.  Then  the  Fox  said :  "  Fool  and  dotard  that  I  am !  I 
should  have  eaten  first,  and  thanked  God  afterward." 

This  fable  warns  us  not  to  count  on  things  that  are  prom- 
ised, and  not  to  thank  anyone  until  we  have  actually  received 
a  favor. 

The  Fox  and  the  Sparrow 

The  Fox  held  a  Sparrow  in  his  mouth  and  was  on  the  point 
of  eating  it,  when  the  latter  said  : 

"  You  ought  first  to  give  thanks  to  God,  and  then  you  can 
eat  me,  for  at  this  moment  I  am  on  the  point  of  laying  an  egg, 
big  as  that  of  an  ostrich.  It  is  a  priceless  egg,  but  let  me  go, 
that  I  may  lay  it,  and  afterward  you  may  eat  me.  I  swear  that 
I  will  put  myself  at  your  disposal." 

As  soon  as  the  Fox  dropped  him,  he  flew  off  and  lighted  on 
the  branch  of  a  very  high  tree.     Then  the  Fox  said  to  him : 

"  Come,  now,  do  as  you  have  decided,  and  return  when  I 
ask  you." 

"Do  you  think  I  am  as  senseless  as  you  are?"  asked  the 
Sparrow,  "  that  I  should  return  at  your  pleasure  ?  How  could 
you  possibly  believe  me,  or  imagine  that  such  a  little  body  could 
lay  such  a  disproportionately  large  egg?    Listen  to  the  advice 


20  TURKISH   FABLES 

I  give  you :  Don't  you  credit  extravagant  statements,  or  go 
to  sleep  under  a  tottering  wall." 

The  Fox  answered :  "  God  will  judge  you  for  the  trick  you 
have  played  me." 

"  Some  falsehoods,"  answered  the  Sparrow,  "  are  praise- 
worthy ;  God  highly  rewards  the  lie  that  delivers  one  from 
death  or  danger,  and  which  saves  another's  life." 

The  Fox  then  concealed  himself  near  by,  and  began  to  plot 
and  peer  for  the  capture  of  the  Sparrow  ;  but  the  latter  dropped 
dung  into  his  eyes,  saying :  "  O  fool,  listen  to  another  piece 
of  advice :  Do  not  strive  after  that  which  you  cannot  attain, 
and  in  the  quarrels  of  husband  and  wife,  or  of  brothers,  say 
not  a  single  indiscreet  word  of  which  you  may  afterward  re- 
pent." 

The  Syrian  Priest  and  the  Young  Man 

A  Syrian  Priest,  good  and  wise,  and  an  Armenian  were  en- 
gaged in  a  dispute.  The  Young  Man,  at  last  enraged,  said  to 
the  Priest : 

"  I  will  drive  this  stone  down  your  throat,  in  order  that  your 
thirty-two  teeth  may  choke  you." 

The  Priest  returned  hastily  to  his  house,  lost  in  astonish- 
ment, and  said  to  his  wife : 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  wife,  light  a  candle,  and  count  how 
many  teeth  I  have." 

She  counted  them  and  said : 

"  They  are  just  thirty-two  in  number." 

The  Priest  at  once  returned  to  the  Young  Man  and  said : 

"  How  did  you  learn  the  number  of  my  teeth  ?  And  who 
told  you  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  replied  the  other,  "  I  learned  the  number  of  your  teeth 
from  the  number  of  my  own." 

This  fable  shows  that  from  my  own  bad  qualities  I  am  able 
to  guess  yours,  for  all  faults  are  common. 

The  Converted  Cat 

The  Cat,  having  put  on  the  cowl  and  become  a  monk,  sent 
word  to  the  mice  and  said : 

"  It  is  an  abominable  thing  to  shed  blood.  As  for  me,  I  will 
shed  no  more,  for  I  am  become  religious." 


THE    HORSE   AND   HIS   RIDER  21 

Then  the  mice  repHed :  "  Although  we  saw  in  you  the  whole 
Order  of  St.  Anthony,  or  of  our  holy  Father  St.  Mark,  we  could 
have  no  confidence  in  your  hypocrisy." 

The  Cat  covered  herself  with  a  dust  rag,  and  smeared  her- 
self with  flour.     The  mice  approached  her,  saying: 

"  Wretch,  we  see  through  your  dust  rag !  " 

Then  she  pretended  to  be  dead,  and  lay  in  the  path  of  the 
mice,  who  approached  her  and  said : 

''  Miserable  cheat,  although  your  skin  be  made  into  a  purse, 
we  could  not  believe  that  you  had  given  up  your  habitual 
knavery." 

This  fable  shows  that  when  you  have  once  found  out  a  per- 
son of  dishonest,  treacherous,  and  evil  character,  you  should  not 
trust  him,  even  if  he  tries  to  do  right,  for  he  cannot  change  his 
nature. 

The  Fox  and  the  Wolf 

The  Fox  deceived  the  Wolf,  telling  him  that  if  he  delivered 
a  letter  to  the  heads  of  the  village,  they  would  give  him  food 
to  bring  back.  When  the  Wolf  reached  the  village  the  dogs 
fell  upon  him,  biting  and  wounding  him.  When  he  returned 
in  a  sad  plight  the  Fox  said  to  him :  "  Why  did  you  not  show 
your  letter?  " 

"  I  did  show  it,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  there  were  a  thousand 
dogs,  who  did  not  know  the  handwriting." 

This  fable  shows  that  there  are  many  people  ignorant,  though 
brave,  with  whom  it  is  best  not  to  dispute  or  to  mix,  but  pru- 
dently to  keep  away  from  them. 

The  Horse  and  His  Rider 

The  Horse  complained  to  his  Rider,  saying  that  it  was  unjust 
that  a  fair  and  powerful  creature,  such  as  he  was,  should  be 
a  slave  and  carry  so  weak  a  thing  as  man. 

His  Rider  replied :  "I  feed  you,  I  shelter  you  with  a  roof, 
and  I  show  you  where  water  and  grass  are  to  be  found." 

"  But  you  take  away  my  liberty,  and  put  a  hard  bit  in  my 
mouth.  You  weary  me  with  long  journeys,  and  sometimes 
expose  me  to  the  dangers  of  battle,"  answered  the  Horse. 

"  Take,  then,  your  liberty,"  said  his  master,  removing  the 
bridle  from  his  head  and  the  saddle  from  his  back. 


22  TURKISH   FABLES 

The  Horse  bounded  off  into  the  mountains,  where  grass  and 
water  abounded.  For  many  weeks  he  enjoyed  ease  and  plenty. 
But  a  pack  of  wolves,  seeing  him  in  good  condition,  pursued 
him.  At  first  he  easily  outstripped  them,  but  he  was  now  heavy 
with  much  nourishment,  and  his  breath  began  to  fail.  The 
wolves  overtook  and  threw  him  to  the  ground. 

When  he  found  his  last  hour  was  come  he  exclaimed  mourn- 
fully. "  How  happy  and  safe  I  was  with  my  master,  and  how 
much  lighter  and  easier  were  his  bridle  and  spur  than  the  fangs 
of  these  blood-thirsty  enemies !  " 

This  fable  shows  that  many  people  do  not  estimate  duly  the 
blessings  of  their  condition,  and  complain  about  those  duties, 
the  performance  of  which  is  the  sole  condition  of  their  life  and 
safety. 

The  Rose  and  the  Butterfly 

A  Rose  growing  in  a  garden  of  Tiflis  saw  in  summer 
time  a  Butterfly  of  many  colors  fluttering  in  a  neighboring 
flower-bed. 

"  Poor  creature,"  said  the  flower,  "  how  short  your  life  is ! 
You  are  here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow.  But  I  remain  on  my 
stalk,  spread  my  leaves  in  the  sun,  and  scatter  scent  on  the  air 
without  change." 

"  I  have  the  power  of  going  into  many  gardens,"  replied 
the  Butterfly.  "  You  are  only  a  prisoner ;  I  can  get  under  shel- 
ter when  it  rains,  seek  the  shade  when  the  sun  is  hot,  and  if 
my  life  is  short,  it  is  a  merry  one.  Besides,  your  life  is  short 
also,  and  a  storm  at  any  moment  may  throw  you  to  the  ground 
and  scatter  your  red  petals  in  the  dtist." 

The  Rose  tossed  her  head  in  a  burst  of  rage.  "  I  am  at  least 
beautiful  and  fragrant  while  my  life  lasts ;  but  you  are  no  more 
than  a  worm  with  a  pair  of  wings." 

There  would  have  been  more  angry  words  between  these  two 
had  not  the  lady  of  the  house  come  that  moment  and  plucked 
the  Rose,  while  a  bird  from  the  bough  of  an  oak-tree  swooped 
down  and  carried  off  the  Butterfly. 

This  fable  shows  that  pride  and  vanity  make  people  very 
often  fancy  themselves  superior  to  others,  while  all  are  really 
of  no  importance,  being  subject  to  the  same  condition  of  decay 
and  death. 


THE   WOLF,  THE  FOX,  AND   THE   SHEPHERD'S   DOG     23 

The  Archer  and  the  Trumpeter 

The  Archer  and  the  Trumpeter  were  travelling  together  in 
a  lonely  place.  The  Archer  boasted  of  his  skill  as  a  warrior, 
and  asked  the  Trumpeter  if  he  bore  arms. 

"  No,"  replied  the  Trumpeter,  "  I  cannot  fight.  I  can  only 
blow  my  horn,  and  make  music  for  those  who  are  at  war." 

"  But  I  can  hit  a  mark  at  a  hundred  paces,"  said  the  Archer. 
As  he  spoke  an  eagle  appeared,  hovering  over  the  tree  tops. 
He  drew  out  an  arrow,  fitted  it  on  the  string,  shot  at  the  bird, 
which  straightway  fell  to  the  ground,  transfixed  to  the  heart. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  any  foe,  for  that  bird  might  just  as 
well  have  been  a  man,"  said  the  Archer  proudly.  "  But  you 
would  be  quite  helpless  if  anyone  attacked  you." 

They  saw  at  that  moment  a  band  of  robbers  approaching 
them  with  drawn  swords.  The  Archer  immediately  discharged 
a  sharp  arrow,  which  laid  low  the  foremost  of  the  wicked  men. 
But  the  rest  soon  overpowered  him  and  bound  his  hands. 

"  As  for  this  Trumpeter,  he  can  do  us  no  harm,  for  he  has 
neither  sword  nor  bow,*  they  said,  and  did  not  bind  him,  but 
took  away  his  purse  and  wallet. 

Then  the  Trumpeter  said :  "  You  are  welcome,  friends,  but 
let  me  play  you  a  tune  on  my  horn." 

With  their  consent  he  blew  loud  and  long  on  his  trumpet, 
and  in  a  short  space  of  time  the  guards  of  the  King  came  run- 
ning up  at  the  sound,  and  surrounded  the  robbers  and  carried 
them  off  to  prison. 

When  they  unbound  the  hands  of  the  Archer  he  said  to  the 
Trumpeter :  "  Friend,  I  have  learned  to-day  that  a  trumpet  is 
better  than  a  bow ;  for  you  have  saved  our  lives  without  doing 
harm  to  anyone." 

This  fable  shows  that  one  man  ought  not  to  despise  the 
trade  of  another.  It  also  shows  that  it  is  better  to  be  able  to 
gain  the  help  of  others  than  to  trust  to  our  own  strength. 

The  Wolf,  the  Fox,  and  the  Shepherd's  Dog 
A  Fox  was  once  carrying  home  to  his  young  a  leveret  which 
he  had  caught  by  stealth.    On  his  way  he  met  a  Wolf,  who  said 
to  him,  "  I  am  very  hungry,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  refuse  me 
a  taste  of  your  prey." 


24  TURKISH   FABLES 

"  In  the  name  of  God,"  cried  the  Fox,  "  eat  your  fill ;  but 
leave  me  a  fragment  for  the  supper  of  my  little  ones." 

The  Wolf,  however,  swallowed  the  dainty  morsel  at  a  mouth- 
ful. Although  the  Fox  was  very  angry  he  said  in  a  humble 
voice :  *'  I  am  glad  that  your  appetite  is  so  good.  Farewell. 
Perhaps  some  day  I  will  gain  for  you  another  meal  of  equal 
sweetness." 

When  they  parted  the  Fox  began  to  plot  how  he  might  re- 
venge himself  upon  his  enemy  the  Wolf.  Now  it  happened 
that  a  Shepherd's  Dog  came  to  the  Fox  for  advice.  He  asked 
him  how  he  should  destroy  the  Wolf,  who  every  night  kept 
robbing  his  master's  folds. 

"  That  is  an  easy  matter,"  replied  the  Fox.  "  You  must  put 
on  a  wolf's  skin,  so  that  when  the  Wolf  sees  you  he  will  make 
up  to  you  without  fear,  and  then  you  can  seize  him  by  the 
throat  and  strangle  him." 

The  Wolf  also  came  to  the  Fox  for  counsel. 

"  The  Shepherd's  Dog,"  he  complained,  "  barks  when  I  ap- 
proach the  fold,  and  the  sticks  and  stones  of  the  shepherds  often 
give  me  a  severe  mauling.     How  shall  I  be  able  to  kill  him  ?  " 

"  That  is  easy,"  said  the  Fox ;  "  put  on  a  sheep's  skin,  enter 
the  fold  with  the  flock,  and  lie  down  with  them.  At  midnight 
you  can  strangle  the  Dog  unawares,  afterward  feast  as  much  as 
you  like." 

Then  the  Fox  went  back  to  the  Dog  and  told  him  to  look  out 
for  the  Wolf  disguised  as  a  Sheep. 

When  night  came  the  Wolf  entered  the  fold  dressed  like  a 
sheep,  and  had  no  fear,  for  he  saw  no  dog,  but  only  a  wolf  at 
the  door.  But  the  Dog  saw  the  fierce  eyes  of  the  Wolf  and 
flew  at  his  throat.  Meanwhile  the  shepherds  heard  the  noise, 
and  as  they  saw  a  wolf  mangling  a  sheep,  they  laid  on  the  Dog's 
back  with  their  heavy  staves  until  he  died,  but  not  before  he  had 
strangled  the  Wolf. 

This  fable  shows  how  unwise  it  is  to  seek  help  from  people 
without  principle. 


THE    MAGISTRATES 


BY 


mirza  feth-ali  akhoud  zaide 

{Translated  hy  Epiphanius  Wilson,  A.M.] 


DRAMATIS    PERSONS 


Sekine-Khanoun,  a  young  lady  of  eighteen,  sister  of  the  late 
Hadji-Ghafour. 

Aziz-Bey,  the  lover  and  uance  of  Sekine-Khanoun. 

ZoBEiDE,  paternal  aunt  of  Sekine-Khanoun. 

Zeineb-Khanoun,  mistress  of  the  late  Hadji-Ghafour. 

Aga -Abbas,  brother  of  Zeineb. 

Aga-Selman,  son  of  the  sieve-maker,  advocate  of  Sekine- 
Khanoun. 

Aga-Merdan,  son  of  the  confectioner,  advocate  of  Zeineb. 

Aga-Hassam,  a  merchant. 

Aga-Kerim,  chief  of  the  courtiers. 

Goul-Sebah,  servant  of  Sekine-Khanoun. 

The  President  of  the  Tribunal. 

Aga-Rehim, 


I 


Assessors  of  the  Tribunal. 


Aga-Djebbar, 

Aga-Bechin, 

Aga-Settar,     j 

The  Inspector  of  the  Market, 

Hepou,  ^ 


>■  witnesses  for  Zeineb. 


Cheida, 

QOURBAN  AlI, 

Hanife, 

Bedel, 

Quhreman, 

Ghaffer, 

Nezer, 

The  Chief  of  the  Bailiffs. 

Eced,  domestic  to  the  President  of  the  Tribunal. 

Nasser,  a  lackey. 

A  seven  months'  old  infant. 


>-  soldiers,  witnesses  for  Sekine-Khanoun. 


26 


THE   MAGISTRATES 
ACT  FIRST 

Scene  I — The  Scene  is  laid  in  the  House  of  the  Late 
Merchant,  Hadji-Ghafour 

Sekine-Khanoun,  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour,  is  discovered  stand- 
ing before  the  ivindoiv;  she  calls  to  her  servant,  Goul-Sebah. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Goul-Sebah!     Goul-Sebah! 

Goul-Sebah  [entering  the  room].  Here  I  am,  madame. 
What  do  you  wish? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Have  you  not  heard  of  the  trouble  which 
my  shameless  sister-in-law  is  bringing  upon  me,  Goul- 
Sebah? 

Goul-Sebah.  No,  madame.     How  could  I  hear  about  it  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  She  has  given  notice  to  the  President  of 
the  Tribunal  that  she  objects  to  his  paying  over  to  me  the 
money  which  my  brother  had  placed  in  his  hands  for  me. 
She  claims  that  this  sum  should  revert  to  her.  Good 
heavens!  Goul-Sebah,  was  ever  such  a  case  heard  of?  I 
do  not  know  what  sin  I  have  committed  against  God,  but 
things  always  fall  out  unluckily  for  me. 

Goul-Sebah.  Whatever  put  such  ideas  in  your  head,  madame? 
Why  should  things  fall  out  unluckily  for  you  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  As  you  are  aware,  Goul-Sebah,  I  am  des- 
perately in  love  with  Aziz-Bey.  For  two  whole  years  did 
the  unhappy  youth  in  vain  beseech  my  brother  to  give  him 
my  hand ;  my  brother  would  not  consent,  because  Aziz-Bey 
is  the  son  of  a  heretic,  and  an  officer  of  government.  But 
now  that  my  brother  is  dead,  and  I  am  free  to  dispose  of 
my  hand  as  I  choose,  I  wish  to  enter  into  possession  of 

27 


28  AKHOUD-ZAIDfi 

the  money  which  he  has  left  me,  to  provide  for  my  wants 
in  peace,  and  to  fulfil  the  vow  of  my  heart.  And  lo  and 
behold,  this  shameless  sister-in-law  has  protested  against 
the  payment  of  the  legacy!  We  must  therefore  have- all 
the  worry  of  a  lawsuit. 

Goul-Sebah.  Is  it  not  a  fact,  madame,  that  your  sister-in-law 
has  no  right  to  the  legacy  left  by  your  brother? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  She  certainly  has  none.  What  right  could 
she  have?  She  was  not  his  lawful  wife,  that  she  should 
inherit  his  fortune.  She  has  not  even  a  child  who  could 
be  co-heir  to  it !  I  do  not  really  know  why  she  has  pro- 
tested. 

Goul-Sebah.  Do  not  trouble  your  head  about  it,  madame. 
Please  God,  nothing  will  be  done  against  you.  But  make 
one  promise  to  your  servant ;  I  will  pray  God  to  bring  out 
your  business  well,  and  to  grant  that  you  may  soon  reach 
the  goal  of  your  desires. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  What  is  your  desire?  What  promise  do 
you  wish  me  to  make  to  you  ? 

Goul-Sebah.  Promise  me,  when  this  affair  is  settled,  by  the 
favor  of  God,  and  you  have  come  into  possession  of  your 
fortune,  promise  me  to  defray  the  expenses  of  my  wedding 
and  to  give  me  a  husband.  What  could  I  desire  beside 
that  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Very  well.  Do  you  pray  to  God  that  our 
lawsuit  may  be  quickly  ended,  and  I  will  give  a  husband 
to  you  also.  But  start  at  once,  and  go  to  the  house  of 
Aziz-Bey,  and  tell  him  to  come  to  me ;  I  wish  to  see  what 
he  says  about  all  this.  The  President  of  the  Tribunal  has 
induced  me  to  ask  an  advocate  to  plead  my  cause.  But  I 
have  no  one  in  this  country  excepting  Aziz-Bey,  and  a 
paternal  aunt — and  she  is,  of  course,  a  woman,  and  what 
can  a  woman  do  for  me  ? 

Goul-Sebah  [she  goes  out  and  at  once  returns] .  Madame,  here 
comes  Aziz-Bey  himself  at  the  very  nick  of  time.  [Sekine- 
Khanoun  closes  the  window  and  Aziz-Bey  enters  the 
room.] 


THE   MAGISTRATES  29 


Scene  II 


Aziz-Bey  [abruptly].  See  what  a  mess  you  have  led  me  mto, 
Sekine. 

Sekine-Khanoun  [with  surprise] .  I !  What  mess  have  I  led 
you  into?  But,  tell  me,  what  has  happened  that  you  seem 
so  vexed  and  gloomy  ? 

Aziz-Bey.  Listen  to  me,  Sekine.  You  know  that  two  years  ago, 
just  as  I  left  school,  I  fell  sick  with  love  for  you,  so  that 
I  had  no  longer  strength  to  leave  the  house,  although  your 
brother  ill-treated  me,  and  made  every  effort  to  separate 
us  two.  During  this  whole  time,  I  have  proved  constant, 
and  have  put  up  with  his  harshness.  My  love,  so  far  from 
being  cooled,  has  grown  from  day  to  day,  and  in  the  hope 
that  sooner  or  later  we  should  be  united,  I  have  patiently 
endured  all  sorts  of  outrage  and  persecutions.  Meanwhile 
the  moment  of  our  union  seemed  to  be  near,  and  my 
thoughts  became  somewhat  more  cheerful,  and  I  enjoyed  a 
little  more  peace  of  mind — and  now  I  learn  that  I  am  again 
to  be  plunged  into  misfortune ! 

Sekine-Khanoun.  What  do  you  say?  Speak  more  plainly, 
that  I  may  understand  your  meaning.  I  do  not  compre- 
hend you. 

Aziz-Bey.  How  is  it  you  do  not  comprehend?  Are  you  not 
aware  that  yesterday,  Aga-Hassam,  the  merchant,  has  sent 
the  wife  of  the  head  of  the  Traders'  Company,  that  of  the 
mayor,  and  that  of  Bagis,  the  lawyer,  to  the  house  of  your 
aunt,  to  demand  your  hand  of  her?  Your  aunt  has  given 
her  word  in  assent. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  But  my  aunt  talks  nonsense!  Who  pays 
any  attention  to  her  words  ? 

Aziz-Bey.  I  can  stand  this  no  longer.  You  must  send  at  once 
and  call  for  your  aunt,  and  let  me  with  my  own  ears  hear 
her  declare  that  you  shall  never  be  the  wife  of  Aga-Has- 
sam, or  else  I  must  decide  to  kill  Aga-Hassam  this  very 
day,  and  may  I  succeed  in  doing  so !  What  is  this  Hassam  ? 
A  shopkeeper!  He  wishes  to  step  into  my  shoes,  to  pay 
court  to  my  uanccc,  and  to  cross  my  path,  does  he!  By 
God,  I  will  cut  his  heart  out  with  this  dagger. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Very  good.     I  will  send  to  my  aunt,  and 


30  akhoud-zaid£ 

beg  of  her  to  come  at  once.  Then  I  will  tell  her  that  I 
am  not,  and  never  will  be  the  wife  of  Aga-Hassam.  When 
my  aunt  arrives,  you  must  go  into  this  room,  and  you  will 
hear  what  she  says  with  your  own  ears. — Goul-Sebah ! 

Scene  III 

Goul-Sebah.  What  is  it,  madanie? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Goul-Sebah,  go  and  ask  my  aunt  to  come 
here.     [Goul-Sebah  goes  out.] 

Scene  IV 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Well,  but  come  now,  whom  shall  we  take 
for  our  advocate  ? 

Aziz-Bey.  Advocate  ?     For  what  purpose  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Alas,  he  asks  me  for  what  purpose! 
Have  they  not  told  you,  then,  that  my  sister-in-law  dis- 
putes the  legacy,  and  wishes  to  involve  me  in  a  law- 
suit? 

Aziz-Bey.  Yes,  I  have  heard  it  said,  but  at  present  my  head  is 
whirling  round.  First  let  your  aunt  come,  and  when  she 
goes  away,  I  will  find  an  advocate.  [At  this  moment  a 
footstep  is  heard,  Aziz-Bey  returns  to  the  other  room,  and 
Zobeide,  aunt  of  Sekine-Khanoun  enters  the  apartment.] 

Scene  V 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Good-day,  my  dear  aunt. 

Zobeide.  Good-day,  Sekine.  How  are  you?  Are  you  quite 
well? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Ah!  how  can  I  be  well,  when  I  have  al- 
lowed you,  aunt,  to  promise  me  in  marriage  to  Aga-Has- 
sam? I  have  neither  father  nor  brothe -,  and  am  altogether 
dependent  on  myself  for  the  management  of  my  life. 

Zobeide.  Are  you  not  ashamed  to  speak  thus?  What!  not  a 
blush !  Has  not  all  been  done  in  your  interest?  You  need 
a  husband ;  you  must  take  him  who  is  given  to  you.  It  is 
not  proper  that  young  girls  should  speak  in  this  style  be- 
fore their  elder  relations.  It  is  shameful !  Fie  upon  you, 
Sekine ! 


THE   MAGISTRATES  31 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Not  at  all.  I  have  spoken  just  as  I  choose  ; 
I  will  no  longer  surrender  my  liberty,  and  no  one  shall 
force  a  husband  upon  me. 

ZoBEiDE.  Very  good.    You  do  not,  then,  wish  to  marry? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  No;  I  certainly  do  not  wish  to  marry. 

ZoBEiDE  [sniiling] .  There  are  many  girls  who  say  no,  like  you ; 
but  later  on  they  come  to  reason. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  In  the  name  of  God,  aunt,  do  not  make 
fun  of  me ;  it  is  absurd  to  wish  me  to  marry  Aga-Hassam ; 
you  may  as  well  give  up  that  idea  altogether. 

Zobeide.  It  is  not  possible  for  you  to  recede,  my  dear  niece. 
You  would  make  enemies  for  me  of  all  the  leading  people 
of  the  country. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  They  may  go  to  the  devil  for  all  I  care. 
Aga-Hassam  is  loathsome  to  me;  the  very  sight  of  him 
makes  me  sick. 

Zobeide.  Why  is  that  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  He  is  a  low  fellow. 

Zobeide.  He  may  be  a  low  fellow  to  everyone  else,  but  to  us  he 
is  of  the  first  water.  He  is  successful  in  business,  is  very 
rich,  and  his  connections  are  among  the  leading  people  of 
the  province.    Where  will  you  find  a  better  husband  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Even  if  Aga-Hassam  were  to  load  me  with 
jewels  from  head  to  foot  I  would  never  be  his  wife.  Go 
and  tell  him  to  give  up  all  idea  of  this. 

Zobeide.  Never.  Who,  pray,  are  you,  that  you  presume  to  go 
back  on  the  word  which  I  have  given  ?  Aga-Hassam  sent 
to  me  the  leading  ladies  of  the  land.  I  am  no  child,  and  I, 
of  course,  consented  to  their  offer ;  I  had  your  interest  in 
view,  and  gave  my  word  to  them.  Do  you  wish  me  to 
appear  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  as  an  imbecile?  I  have,  I 
believe,  both  name  and  rank ;  I  have  a  position  of  dignity, 
and  am  an  honorable  woman. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  And  so  I  am  to  be  made  unhappy  for  my 
whole  life  in  order  that  your  reputation  and  your  honor 
may  suffer  no  damage!  You  have  laid  a  strange  duty 
upon  me,  aunt.  By  Heaven,  I  swear  that  I  will  never, 
never  marry  Aga-Hassam,  even  though  the  whole  world 
be  brought  to  ruin.  It  is  I  who  tell  you  this,  and  you  must 
explain  matters  to  him,  and  make  him  abandon  this  pro- 


32 


AKHOUD-ZAIDE 


posal.  If  you  do  not,  I  will  send  for  him  myself,  and  I 
will  meet  him  face  to  face  and  give  him  such  a  tongue- 
lashing  as  he  never  had  before.  I  will  treat  him  worse  than 
a  dog,  and  send  him  away  with  a  flea  in  his  ear. 

ZoBEiDE  [covering  her  face  ivith  both  her  hands].  Oh!  Oh! 
My  God !  Oh !  how  the  whole  world  is  become  topsy- 
turvy. The  young  girls  of  to-day  have  neither  shame  nor 
reserve.  Sekine,  I  have  never  before  met  a  girl  of  such 
effrontery  as  you  exhibit.  I  myself  have  been  young,  I 
have  had  older  relatives  about  me,  but  from  respect  toward 
them  I  would  never  have  dared  to  raise  my  head  in  con- 
tradiction to  them.  It  is  because  of  this  effrontery  of  yours 
that  plague  and  cholera  cease  not  to  waste  this  province. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  No,  it  is  owing  to  the  baseness  of  certain 
degraded  people  that  plague  and  cholera  are  raging  here. 
This  miserable  wretch  has  heard  of  my  fortune  of  60,000 
tomans,  and  this  is  the  reason  why  he  sent  and  asked 
for  my  hand.  If  this  were  not  so,  why  did  he  not  seek 
to  win  me  by  the  avenue  of  love  and  inclination?  If  he 
desired  to  espouse  me  for  my  own  sake,  why  did  he  keep 
his  mouth  shut,  and  refrain  from  breathing  a  word  during 
my  brother's  lifetime. 

ZoBEiDE.  He  might  have  had  no  desire  to  wed  you  in  your 
brother's  lifetime.  But  you  do  well  to  remind  me  of  the 
60,000  tomans.  Are  you  not  aware  that  unless  you  marry 
Aga-Hassam  he  will  cause  you  to  forfeit  this  sum  of 
money  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Why,  and  in  what  way  will  he  cause  me 
to  forfeit  it? 

ZoBEiDE.  In  what  way  ?  Why,  he  will  go  to  your  sister-in-law, 
and  make  common  cause  with  her.  His  kinsmen  and  fam- 
ily will  support  her  claim  and  confirm  her  declaration,  and 
you  will  be  compelled  to  abandon  your  rights.  The  reason 
is  palpable ;  it  lies  in  the  greed  and  devilish  trickery  of 
those  people  whose  minds  are  set  on  nothing  else  but  the 
absorption  of  other  people's  fortunes,  great  and  small. 
And  what  do  you  know  about  such  matters  as  these  ?  Who 
will  listen  to  your  arguments  or  pleas  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Very  good.  Let  us  admit  that  my  rights 
are  to  be  invaded  and  my  pleas  disregarded.    Still,  I  do  not 


THE    MAGISTRATES  33 

understand  how  a  mistress,  a  domestic  servant,  can  pretend 
to  the  legacy  that  belongs  to  me.  We  shall  soon  be  told 
that  there  is  neither  right  nor  justice  in  this  country,  and 
that  everyone  can  do  just  what  he  likes,  and  as  he  under- 
stands it  to  be  best  for  himself ! 

ZoBEiDE.  Ah,  my  child,  is  there  any  safeguard  from  the  trick- 
ery of  mankind?  What  rights  had  the  wife  of  Hadji- 
Rehim  in  the  fortune  of  her  husband  ?  Nevertheless  12,000 
tomans  in  cash  and  a  bathing  establishment  were  stolen 
from  Aga-Riza,  the  son  of  Hadji-Rehim,  to  make  a  gift 
for  this  vile  woman.  By  all  sorts  of  rascalities  the  advo- 
cate of  this  woman  forged  a  deed  of  gift,  and  pretended 
that  Hadji-Rehim  in  his  lifetime  transferred  to  his  wife 
12,000  tomans,  in  specie,  and  a  bathing  establishment. 
Five  or  six  persons  were  produced  as  witnesses,  and  in 
spite  of  his  cries  and  lamentations,  the  money  and  the  ham- 
main  were  stolen  from  poor  Aga-Riza,  who  utterly  failed 
to  obtain  justice?  You  are  quite  unaware  of  the  diabolical 
wiles  of  law  officers  in  this  country ;  no  one  can  escape 
from  the  manoeuvres  of  these  people,  no  one  can  see 
through  these  manoeuvres  and  false  statements.  Do  you 
think  that  I  have  promised  your  hand  to  Aga-Hassam  to 
please  myself  ?  Not  at  all.  I  have  seen  that  there  was  no 
course  to  take,  and  I  said  to  myself  that  we  must  accept 
the  situation  with  a  good  grace ;  and  that  this  was  the  best 
thing  to  be  done. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Even  though  all  my  fortune  should  be 
swallowed  up  to  the  last  penny,  I  will  never  be  the  wife  of 
Aga-Hassam.  Go,  then,  and  explain  this  to  him ;  tell  him 
that  your  niece  refused  her  consent. 

ZoBEiDE.  Do  not  speak  in  this  way.  Sekine.  I  see  your  plan. 
You  wish  to  become  the  wife  of  Aziz-Bey,  and  to  mingle 
the  blood  of  our  race  with  heretics  ;  to  bring  in  those  peo- 
ple, and  to  set  them  at  the  head  of  our  family ;  to  do  de- 
spite to  the  spirits  of  our  ancestors,  and  to  cover  yourself 
with  disgrace.  Never,  up  to  this  day,  has  such  a  thing  been 
seen  in  our  family.  How  can  the  daughter  of  an  honest. 
God-fearing  merchant  become  the  wife  of  an  unbeliever? 
How  is  it  possible? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  How  do  you  know  that  I  desire  to  espouse 
3 


34  AKHOUD-ZAIDJĞ 

Aziz-Bey  ?  I  wish  to  espouse  neither  him  nor  anyone  else. 
I  wish  to  remain  in  my  own  house.  Be  quick,  then,  and 
give  my  message  to  Aga-Hassam. 
ZoBEiDE.  You  are  a  young  girl,  you  have  not  reached  years  of 
discretion,  and  cannot  see  your  own  interests.  I  have  not 
the  slightest  intention  of  going  to  find  Aga-Hassam,  and 
telling  him  that  my  niece  is  unwilling  to  marry  him.  I  have 
promised  you  to  him,  and  he  left  after  receiving  my  word 
on  it ;  you  may  spare  yourself  further  talk  on  this  matter. 
[Zobeide  rises  and  goes  out.] 

Scene  VI 

Aziz-Bey.  You  see  now  what  real  trouble  I  am  in.    I  shall  go 

off  at  once. 
Sekine-Khanoun.  Where  will  you  go? 
Aziz-Bey.  To  this  villain,  Aga-Hassam,  to  punish  him  as  he 

deserves.     I  can  no  longer  restrain  myself. 
Sekine-Khanoun.  What  is  the  matter  with  you?    Do  not  go; 

remain  here.     You  will  otherwise  commit  some  blunder. 

I  intend  sending  someone  from  me  to  this   wretch,  to 

tell  him  to  come  here,  and  I  will  compel  him  myself  to 

abandon  these  designs  of  his. — Goul-Sebah !     [Enter  Goul- 

Sebah.] 

Scene  VII 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Goul-Sebah,  go  to  the  home  of  Aga-Has- 
sam, the  merchant,  take  him  aside,  and  tell  him  that  a 
woman  asks  for  him  on  a  most  important  errand ;  but  do 
not  mention  my  name.  [Exit  Goul-Sebah.  Then  Sekine- 
Khanoun  turns  toward  Asis-Bey.] 

Scene  VIII 

Sekine-Khanoun.  By  heavens,  Aziz-Bey,  you  are  a  child 
whose  lips  are  still  wet  with  your  nurse's  milk !  Go  and 
look  at  yourself  in  the  glass  and  see  how  red  your  eyes 
are  from  rage.  How  is  it  you  have  so  little  force  of  char- 
acter ?     This  base  fellow  cannot  take  me  by  force. 

Aziz-Bey.  You  are  right ;  but  what  can  I  do  when  my  heart  is 
overflowing.     [Footsteps  heard  without.     Asis-Bey  re- 


THE   MAGISTRATES  35 

turns  to  the  other  chamber.  Sekinc-Khanoun  veils  her 
face  and  seats  herself.  Enter  Gotil-Sebah  zvith  Aga-Has- 
sam.] 

Scene  IX 

Aga-Hassam.  Good-day,  madame. 

Sekine-Khanoun  [pleasantly].  Good-day,  sir.  Do  you  know 
who  I  am,  brother  Hassam? 

Aga-Hassam.  No,  madame,  I  do  not. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Really!  Well,  Aga-Hassam,  I  must  in- 
form you  that  I  am  Sekine,  the  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour. 

Aga-Hassam  [in  astonishment].  Indeed!  I  have  heard  of 
you.  Can  I  do  any  thing  for  you?  I  am  your  humble 
servant  and  your  slave,  your  domestic,  your  lackey. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  No,  Aga-Hassam,  let  me  beg  you  to  be 
neither  my  slave  nor  my  servant ;  be  my  brother,  both  in 
this  world  and  in  the  next,  and  give  up  all  idea  of  marrying 
me.  It  is  for  the  purpose  of  making  this  simple  request 
that  I  have  called  you  here ;  this  is  all  I  have  to  say  to  you. 

Aga-Hassam  [in  confusion].  But,  madame,  why  do  you  not 
permit  me  to  be  your  slave?  What  fault  have  I  com- 
mitted ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  You  have  committed  no  fault,  and  it  is  best 
that  I  should  speak  plainly  to  you.  I  am  informed  that  you 
sent  to  my  aunt  to  ask  for  my  hand ;  but  it  is  quite  useless 
for  her  to  give  her  consent  to  your  demand.  I  may  as  well 
tell  you  that  I  am  not  the  person  to  suit  you  in  this  matter ; 
abandon,  therefore,  your  purpose.  From  henceforth  do  not 
name  me  in  connection  with  this  subject  again. 

Aga-Hassam.  And  pray,  madame,  why  is  this?  Give  me  the 
reason.  Let  me  understand  why  I  am  not  worthy  to  offer 
you  my  services. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  The  reason  I  need  not  explain.  All  I  have 
to  ask  of  you  is  to  leave  me  alone. 

Aga-Hassam.  But  really,  madame,  I  must  know  what  fault  I 
have  committed  which  makes  you  repulse  me. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  You  have  not  committed  a  single  fault,  my 
brother.  But  I  am  to-day  mistress  of  my  own  actions,  and 
I  do  not  desire  to  become  your  wife.  I  do  not  love  you ; 
nothing  can  force  the  heart  to  love. 


36  AKHOUD  zaide 

Aga-Hassam.  It  is  very  wrong  of  you  to  speak  in  this  strain, 

madame.     Do  not  repeat  such  words. 
Sekine-Khanoun.  I  understand  what  you  mean.     Well,  do 

your  worst.    Spare  me,  or  spare  me  not,  it  matters  not  to 

me,  vile  wretch ! 
Aga-Hassam.  Ah !  you  will  repent  of  this  later  on.    But  think 

again  for  a  while,  and  consider  whether  you  have  nothing 

more  to  say  to  me. 
Sekine-Khanoun.  I  have  considered  the  whole  question,  and 

I  have  but  one  more  observation  to  make.    Leave  me !  and 

do  whatever  you  will.     There  is  no  one  more  despicable 

than  you  are. 
Aga-Hassam  [enraged].  Are  you  mad?     I  intend  to  lead  you 

such  a  dance  that  everyone  will  talk  about  it ;  even  to  the 

day  of  your  death  you  will  remember  it.     [He  rises.] 
Sekine-Khanoun.  Begone!     Begone!     He  who  fears  you  is 

lower  than  you  are.    Do  your  worst  against  me.    Begone ! 

— What  does  he  say  ?    Does  he  fancy  that  anyone  is  afraid 

of  him?     [Aga-Hassam  withdraws,  and  Asis-Bey  comes 

back  into  the  room.] 

Scene  X 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Come  in  and  let  me  think  over  matters. 
One  stone  frightens  away  a  hundred  crows. 

Aziz-Bey.  I  am  going  to  tell  the  whole  afifair  to  Chah-Zade, 
the  King's  son,  and  ask  him  to  settle  it  offhand. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  The  Prince  Royal  cannot  stop  the  lawsuit. 
In  any  case  we  must  have  an  advocate. 

Aziz-Bey.  The  Prince  Royal  cannot  ctop  the  lawsuit ;  but  he 
can  defeat  the  artifices  of  a  rascal  like  Aga-Hassam.  I 
m.ust  inform  him  of  the  affair.  My  father  has  long  been 
devoted  to  his  service,  and  he  is  well  disposed  toward  me ; 
he  has  promised  to  give  me  employment  and  to  establish 
me  in  an  office,  and  to  give  me  my  father's  fortune. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  That  is  all  very  good,  but  let  us  first  secure 
the  services  of  an  advocate  ;  afterward  you  can  go  and  tell 
the  whole  story  to  the  Prince  Royal,  and  he  will  see  what  is 
best  to  be  done. 

Aziz-Bey.  Very  good.  Whom  would  you  like  to  have  for  an 
advocate?     [At  this  moment  Goul-Sehah  enters  the  room.] 


THE   MAGISTRATES  37 

Scene  XI 

Goul-Sebah.  Madame,  a  certain  individual  who  professes  to 
have  important  business  to  discuss  with  you  is  waiting  at 
the  door.  He  asks  if  there  is  anyone  who  can  serve  as 
his  representative  with  you. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Certainly,  Aziz-Bey  is  here.  Tell  the  man 
to  come  in;  we  wish  to  know  what  he  wants,  [Goul- 
Sebah  goes  out.] 

Scene  XII 

Aziz-Bey.  Do  you  think  it  wise  that  the  newcomer  should  see 
me  with  you  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Do  people  know  who  you  are?  Probably 
you  will  be  taken  for  one  of  my  family.  [Aga-Kerim  en- 
ters the  room.    Sekine-Khanoun  veils  herself.] 

Scene  XIII 

Aga-Kerim.  Good-day  to  you  both. 

Aziz-Bey.  Good-day,  sir.  Be  seated,  if  you  please ;  you  are 
welcome. 

Aga-Kerim  {seating  himself  and  turning  to  Aziz-Bey].  My 
young  master,  kindly  tell  me  your  name. 

Aziz-Bey.  My  name  is  Aziz-Bey. 

Aga-Kerim.  It  is  a  fortunate  name.  But  Aziz-Bey,  may  I 
speak  to  you  on  a  certain  matter  in  the  presence  of  Sekine- 
Khanoun  ? 

Aziz-Bey.  You  may  address  your  remarks  directly  to  Sekine- 
Khanoun.  Do  not  think  that  she  is  frivolous  like  other 
young  ladies ;  she  delights  in  conversation,  and  will  not 
be  at  all  bashful  in  answering  your  questions. 

Aga-Kerim.  She  is  right.  But  let  me  first  of  all  inform  you. 
Aziz-Bey,  that  I  am  Aga-Kerim,  the  chief  of  the  courtiers, 
and  that  I  was  a  close  friend  of  the  late  Hadji-Ghafour. 
I  happened  to  drop  in  on  business  a  moment  ago,  at  the 
house  of  Aga-Merdan,  the  son  of  the  confectioner.  By 
chance  Aga-Hassam,  the  merchant,  was  also  there.  He 
greeted  me,  sat  down,  and  spoke  as  follows :  "  I  am  told, 
Aga-Merdan,  that  you  are  the  advocate  of  Zeineb,  the 


38  AKHOUD-ZAIDfi 

widow  of  Hadji-Ghafour.  I  take  your  side  in  this  lawsuit, 
and  I  have  something  to  say  to  you  in  confidence."  I  saw 
that  they  wanted  to  have  a  private  talk,  so  I  withdrew.  I 
learned,  however,  that  they  were  plotting  against  Sekine- 
Khanoun,  and  I  therefore  came  to  warn  her,  merely  from  a 
feeling  of  gratitude  toward  Hadji-Ghafour. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  I  am  delighted  to  find,  Aga-Kerim,  that 
you  have  not  forgotten  the  claims  of  friendship,  and  that 
in  the  present  emergency  you  have  remembered  the  sister  of 
an  old  friend. 

Aga-Kerim.  Ah  yes,  madame,  friendship  is  a  valuable  thing 
in  these  days.  I  have  seen  how  things  stood,  for  this  Aga- 
Merdan  is  a  rogue  and  a  scheming  rascal  whose  equal  is  to 
be  found  neither  in  earth  nor  in  heaven.  I  therefore  decided 
to  come,  and  in  a  friendly  spirit  to  warn  you  beforehand  of 
their  intrigues,  for  if  they  are  permitted  to  carry  them  out, 
there  will  be  no  cure  for  the  consequences. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  But,  Aga-Kerim,  what  can  Aga-Merdan 
do  against  me  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  What  can  he  do?  I  am  told  that  he  is  the  advo- 
cate of  your  sister-in-law,  and  intends  to  sue  you  at  law  in 
her  name.  He  is  very  clever  and  resourceful  in  aflfairs  of 
this  sort ;  you  would  be  no  match  for  him.  It  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  get  ahead  of  him. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  What  can  he  do  in  this  lawsuit?  My 
brother  has  no  child  to  inherit  his  fortune.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  woman  who  has  been  no  more  than  temporary  wife 
can  make  no  claim  to  the  heritage.  However  clever  Aga- 
Merdan,  or  anyone  else,  may  be,  what  injury  can  they 
do  me  in  a  case  which  is  so  clear  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  You  have  had  very  little  experience  in  affairs  of 
this  sort.  Aga-Merdan  will  find  means  to  accomplish  his 
ends.  You  must  not  let  him  take  you  at  a  disadvantage  in 
the  struggle. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  But  how  can  we  help  being  taken  at  a  dis- 
advantage ? 

Aga-Kerim.  Well,  tell  me  in  the  first  place  who  your  advocate 
is,  so  that  I  may  see  him,  and  make  him  acquainted  with 
some  of  the  tricks  of  Aga-Merdan. '  If  he  is  intelligent  he 
won't  let  himself  be  caught  napping. 


THE   MAGISTRATES  39 

Sekine-Khanoun.  We  do  not  know  whom  to  take  for  our 
advocate. 

Aga-Kerim.  How  is  that?  You  don't  know  whom  to  take, 
and  have  not  appointed  anyone  to  defend  you  in  this 
case? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  No,  we  do  not  know  whom  to  choose ;  we 
are  just  on  the  point  of  considering  the  question. 

Aziz-Bey.  Could  not  you,  Aga-Kerim,  name  someone  to  whom 
we  could  intrust  our  case? 

Aga-Kerim.  No,  I  know  no  one  who  would  be  able  to  hold  his 
own  against  Aga-Merdan.  I  thought  you  had  your  advo- 
cate already  on  hand. 

Aziz-Bey.  No,  we  have  not  appointed  anyone.  We  were 
merely  on  the  lookout  for  a  man  of  great  ability  whom  we 
could  intrust  with  the  defence  of  our  interests.  But  think 
again;  cudgel  your  brains.  Have  you  no  idea  of  any- 
one? 

Aga-Kerim.  No,  I  can  think  of  no  man  who  is  of  great  ability. 
There  are  plenty  of  advocates,  but  there  is  none  of  them 
who  could  cope  with  Aga-Merdan.  But  stay;  there  is 
someone,  if  he  would  consent  to  be  your  advocate,  for  he 
has  retired  for  some  time  from  business  of  the  kind.  He 
alone  would  be  able  to  hold  his  own  with  Aga-Merdan. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Who  is' he? 

Aga-Kerim.  He  is  Aga-Selman,  the  son  of  the  sieve-maker. 
Intrust  your  case  with  him  if  he  will  undertake  it. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Who  would  be  able  to  see  him  and  speak 
to  him  about  it  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  It  is  not  necessary  to  delegate  anyone  to  see 
him.  Send  for  him,  and  speak  to  him  yourself  here.  Per- 
haps your  arguments  may  persuade  him  to  accept  the  case ; 
the  discourse  of  a  woman  has  so  much  influence. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Aga-Kerim,  could  you  not  see  him  your- 
self, and  send  him  to  us  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  No,  madame.  I  have  fallen  out  with  him  about 
a  trifling  matter.    Send  somebody  else  to  fetch  him. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  But  how  can  you  in  this  case  give  him  cer- 
tain information  which  you  wish  him  to  have  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  If  you  had  another  advocate,  I  should  deem  it 
necessary  to  instruct  him  in  these  matters ;  but  in  the  case 


4©  AKHOUD-ZAIDE 

of  Aga-Selman  it  is  superfluous.  He  is  clever  enough  to 
make  slippers  for  the  devil  himself.  Although  I  have  quar- 
relled with  him,  I  cannot  deny  his  merit.  God  grant  that 
your  lawsuit  may  succeed. 

Aziz-Bey.  I  shall  go  and  fetch  him  myself.  [Aziz-Bey  and 
Aga-Kerim  rise  from  their  seats  and  prepare  to  go  out.] 

Aga-Kerim.  God  preserve  you,  madame. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Thanks  for  your  kind  visit. 

Aga-Kerim.  I  shall  never  forget  your  goodness.  [Aga-Kerim 
goes  out  with  Aziz-Bey.] 

Scene  XIV 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Goul-Sebah!  bring  in  a  lounge,  and  lay  a 
cushion  on  it.  [Scarcely  has  Goul-Sebah  brought  in  the 
lounge  and  placed  a  cushion  on  it,  when  a  sound  of  foot- 
steps is  heard  in  the  vestibule.  Aziz-Bey  enters  the  room 
with  Aga-Selman.  Sekine-Khanoun  takes  a  seat  at  the 
back  of  the  stage;  Goul-Sebah  stands  by  her  side.] 

Scene  XV 

Aga-Selman.  Good-day,  madame! 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Good-day,  sir.  You  are  welcome,  Aga- 
Selman,  and  your  visit  gratifies  me  exceedingly.  Have  the 
goodness  to  take  a  seat.  [She  points  with  her  finger  to 
the  lounge.  Aga-Selman  seats  himself  at  the  foot  of  the 
lounge  and  Aziz-Bey  takes  a  place  by  his  side.] 

Sekine-Khanoun  [in  a  melancholy  voice].  Aga-Selman,  I 
am  the  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour,  I  hope  that  you  will  treat 
me  as  your  daughter,  and  will  not  refuse  me  your  support 
in  this  day  of  misfortune. 

Aga-Selman.  Speak,  madame,  tell  me  what  is  your  desire? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  You  know,  Aga-Selman,  that  seven  or 
eight  months  ago  everyone  forsook  the  city  and  fled  in 
every  direction  because  of  the  cholera.  Hadji-Ghafour 
was  a  man  full  of  confidence  in  God ;  he  declared  he  would 
not  leave,  but  as  a  precaution  he  took  to  the  President  of 
the  Tribunal  and  placed  on  deposit  with  him,  in  exchange 
for  vouchers,  and  in  the  presence  of  witnesses,  a  sum  of 
60,000  tomans,  laid  up  in  strong-boxes.    *'  If  I  should  hap- 


THE   MAGISTRATES  41 

pen  to  die,"  he  said,  "  you  must  give  this  money  to  my  legal 
heir."  The  President  of  the  Tribunal  took  charge  of  the 
money,  and  then,  like  everybody  else,  he  quitted  the  city. 
All  our  neighbors  also  left.  No  one  was  at  home  but  my 
brother  and  I,  with  a  woman  whom  he  had  espoused  in 
temporary  marriage.  It  happened  that  my  brother  fell 
sick.  No  one  was  left  in  the  town  but  some  soldiers  whom 
the  government  had  left  to  guard  the  houses  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, and  to  carry  the  dead  to  the  cemetery.  On  that 
day  four  soldiers  came  to  our  house,  and  my  brother  said 
to  them :  "  I  am  dying,  and  I  have  no  other  heir  in  the 
world  but  my  sister  here.  After  my  death  take  me  away 
to  the  cemetery."  Then  my  brother  departed  to  the  other 
world.  Meanwhile  my  sister-in-law,  who  is  no  more  than 
a  mistress  to  whom  no  legacy  can  fall,  pretends  to  be  the 
heiress  of  my  brother,  and  institutes  a  suit  against  me. 
Her  advocate  is  Aga-Merdan,  the  son  of  the  confectioner, 
and  I  hope  that  you  will  be  willing  to  undertake  the  task 
of  defending  me. 

Aga-Selman.  Madame,  I  have  retired  from  practice,  and  do 
not  intend  henceforth  to  be  anyone's  advocate. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  This  business  will  not  take  long,  Aga-Sel- 
man ;  it  will  soon  be  finished ;  it  is  matter  for  a  single  ses- 
sion. If  witnesses  are  required  to  testify  to  the  words  of 
my  brother,  there  are  the  soldiers — you  can  summon  them 
as  witnesses.  I  hope  that  you  will  undertake  my  case  out 
of  mere  good-will  toward  me. 

Aga-Selman.  Do  you  know  the  names  and  addresses  of  these 
soldiers  ? 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Yes.  Aziz-Bey  will  write  the  information 
on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  will  hand  it  to  you. 

Aga-Selman.  Since  you  depend  upon  me,  I  accept  the  case ; 
but  on  condition  that  it  is  not  to  turn  out  a  long  one,  for  if 
it  is  likely  to  last  for  any  period,  it  will  not  be  possible  for 
me  to  devote  myself  to  it. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  It  is  matter  for  a  single  day,  and  in  recom- 
pense for  your  trouble  I  will  give  you  a  fee  of  500  tomans. 

Aga-Selman.  That  is  scarcely  necessary,  madame.  I  engage 
in  this  business  purely  out  of  regard  for  you,  and  without 
motives  of  self-interest. 


42  AKHOUD-ZAIDĞ 

Sekine-Khanoun.  i  know  it,  Aga-Selman,  but  I  offer  you 
this  sum  as  pocket-money  for  your  children. 

Aga-Selman.  Allow  me  now  to  retire,  madame;  I  must  go 
and  find  the  soldiers  and  ask  them  to  come  and  testify  at 
the  trial.    As  for  you,  make  out  a  brief  and  send  it  to  me. 

Sekine-Khanoun.  Very  good,  I  will  prepare  and  send  it  to 
you.  But  I  would  remind  you,  Aga-Selman,  that  Aga- 
Merdan  is  said  to  be  very  crafty;  leave  nothing  undone 
to  defeat  his  tricks. 

Aga-Selman.  Keep  your  mind  easy,  madame,  his  tricks  will 
avail  nothing  against  me.  Aziz-Bey,  make  a  note  of  the 
names  and  addresses  of  these  soldiers  and  send  the  par- 
ticulars to  me. 

Aziz-Bey.  Yes,  yes ;  they  will  be  at  your  house  in  less  than  an 
hour.  [Aga-Selman  rises  and  goes  out.  Aziz-Bey  and 
Sekine-Khanoun  remain  alone. \ 

Scene  XVI 

Aziz-Bey.  As  for  me,  I  am  going  to  tell  the  whole  story  to  the 

Prince  Royal. 
Sekine-Khanoun.  Sit  down.    First  of  all  write  the  names  and 

addresses  of  the  soldiers,  and  send  them  to  Aga-Selman ; 

then  you  can  leave  me.     {Aziz-Bey  sits  down  to  write.] 


ACT  SECOND 

Scene  I 

The  action  passes  in  the  house  of  Aga-Merdan,  son  of  the 

confectioner. 

Aga-Merdan  [discovered  seated  alone"].  I  do  not  know  what 
can  have  happened  that  Aga-Kerim  is  so  late  in  coming. 
He  must  have  been  planning  that  Aga-Selman  may  be  Se- 
kine-Khanoun's  advocate,  and  this  is  probably  what  has 
detained  him.  If  this  affair  succeeds,  as  I  predict,  beside 
the  fact  that  I  shall  gain  no  small  sum  of  money,  my  repu- 
tation will  be  spread  through  the  whole  city  and  will  rise 
sky  high.    That  is  to  say,  that  this  lawsuit  is  an  inexhaus- 


THE   MAGISTRATES  43 

tible  mine  of  wealth  to  the  man  who  can  direct  it  and 
make  it  turn  out  aright.  Thank  God,  I  am  not  troubled 
about  that.  [While  he  speaks  the  door  opens,  and  Aga- 
Kerim  enters  the  room.] 


Scene  II 

Aga-Kerim  [gayly].  Good-day.  Congratulate  me ;  I  have  ar- 
ranged everything. 

Aga-Merdan  [zvith  a  smile].  Really?     Is  it  credible? 

Aga-Kerim.  Yes,  on  your  soul  it  is.  I  have  praised  you  so 
highly  to  the  widow  of  Hadji-Ghafour  that  if  you  had 
been  there  you  would  not  have  believed  your  ears.  "  To- 
day," I  said  to  her,  "  there  is  no  one  of  more  consideration 
with  the  President  of  the  Tribunal  than  Aga-Merdan.  He 
is  never  deceived,  and  all  he  says  comes  to  pass.  At  the 
palace  among  the  advocates  he  is  the  only  one  recognized. 
This  is  so  true  of  his  reputation  that  on  certain  occasions 
he  has  public  and  private  audiences  with  the  Prince  Royal. 
For  knowledge  of  affairs  he  is  the  Plato  of  the  century. 
Follow  his  advice  implicitly,  and  do  not  be  anxious  about 
anything.  It  is  only  under  his  direction  that  you  will  be 
able  to  enter  into  possession  of  Hadji-Ghafour's  fortune; 
for,  excepting  through  him,  you  have  no  right  to  the  lega- 
cy !  "  The  woman  was  well  satisfied,  even  delighted,  as  was 
her  brother,  Aga-Abbas.  Meanwhile  they  are  coming  to 
see  you,  in  order  that  you  may  dictate  to  them  the  line  they 
are  to  take. 

Aga-Merdan.  Very  good,  very  good.  But,  tell  me,  have  you 
been  equally  successful  in  securing  for  Aga-Selman  the 
defence  of  the  other  party  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  Yes.  Aga-Selman  is  at  this  very  moment  with 
Sekine-Khanoun,  and  as  soon  as  he  is  at  liberty  he  will 
come  here. 

Aga-Merdan.  It  is  wonderful,  Aga-Kerim.  By  God,  you  work 
miracles  with  your  tongue.  But,  tell  me,  is  the  widow  of 
Hadji-Ghafour  pretty? 

Aga-Kerim.  Why  do  you  ask? 

Aga-Merdan.  Why,  because  I  want  her  to  fall  in  love  with 
me,  and  marry  me.     Why  should  she  not  be  my  wife? 


44  AKH0UD-ZAID£ 

Aga-Kerim.  How  can  I  tell  you  whether  she  will  love  you  or 
not?  Your  age  is  a  little  advanced  and  the  woman  is 
young. 

Aga-Merdan.  No,  Aga-Kerim,  as  sure  as  death,  I  am  not  so 
advanced  in  age.     I  am  exactly  fifty-one. 

Aga-Kerim.  I  shouldn't  have  believed  it ;  I  thought  you  were 
seventy. 

Aga-Merdan.  Seventy?  Not  on  your  life.  You  know  I  was 
born  the  year  of  the  great  earthquake  at  Tebriz. 

Aga-Kerim.  You  are  married  already. 

Aga-Merdan.  I  do  not  wish  to  marry  her  because  I  am  in 
want  of  a  wife.  But  this  is  how  I  consider  the  matter :  If 
we  succeed  in  carrying  off  all  this  fortune  from  Hadji- 
Ghafour's  sister,  and  transferring  it  to  this  woman,  why 
should  it  go  to  another  husband?  Let  me  marry  the 
woman,  and  the  fortune  becomes  mine  at  the  same  time. 
This  is  also  in  your  interest;  what  advantage  will  you 
otherwise  gain  from  it? 

Aga-Kerim.  Yes,  but  in  that  case  what  matters  whether  she 
be  pretty  or  plain?  It  would  be  much  better  that  she 
should  be  a  monster,  if  in  that  way  she  would  become 
enamored  of  you,  and  consent  to  marry  you.  But  she  is  not 
plain,  and  I  do  not  believe  she  would  find  you  to  her  taste. 

Aga-Merdan.  Do  you  mean  that  I  am  not  likely  to  please  her, 
and  to  be  accepted  by  her  ? 

Aga-Kerim.  Come  now,  do  not  you  know  this  yourself  ?  Your 
face  is  certainly  not  particularly  captivating. 

Aga-Merdan.  Of  course  I  cannot  truly  say  what  effect  I  pro- 
duce on  you.  Let  me  look  at  myself  a  little  in  the  glass. 
[He  looks  at  himself  in  a  wardrobe  mirror.]  By  God,  Aga- 
Kerim,  what  do  you  find  to  criticise  in  my  appearance? 
Do  you  mean  that  my  teeth  are  gone?  They  fell  out 
through  an  inflammation,  and  not  from  old  age.  It  is  true 
that  my  jaws  are  slightly  wrinkled,  but  this  is  not  seen, 
the  beard  hides  it. 

Aga-Kerim.  Good  for  you.  That  is  sufficient.  Now  sit  down; 
she  will  soon  be  here. 

Aga-Merdan.  Wait  a  while ;  let  me  put  on  my  cashmere  robe, 
button  my  surtout,  and  comb  my  beard.  Then  I  will  come 
and  sit  down.     [He  begins  to  dress  himself.] 


THE   MAGISTRATES  45 

Aga-Kerim.  Is  all  this  necessary?     Do  sit  down. 

Aga-Merdan.  Certainly  it  is  necessary.  Our  women  always 
veil  themselves  from  the  eyes  of  men,  but  they  are  ex- 
tremely fond  of  gazing  at  us.  If  the  widow  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour  sees  me  in  full  dress  she  will  have  more  con- 
sideration for  me,  and  my  words  will  have  more  influ- 
ence on  her  mind.  It  is  even  possible  that  I  may  prove 
captivating  to  her.  [He  dresses,  combs  his  beard,  and  seats 
himself.  At  this  moment  the  door  opens,  and  the  zvidow 
of  Hadji-Ghafour  enters  zvith  her  brother,  Aga-Abbas.] 

Scene  III 

Aga-Abbas.  Good-day,  gentlemen. 

Aga-Merdan.  Good-day  to  you  both.  You  are  very  welcome, 
and  your  visit  gives  me  great  pleasure.  Be  good  enough 
to  sit  down.  [The  zvidozv  of  Hadji-Ghafour,  wearing  a 
veil,  sits  dozvn,  and  so  does  her  brother.]  I  a;m  going  to 
address  my  remarks  to  you,  Aga-Abbas ;  Madame  Zeineb 
will  hear,  and  will  answer  when  necessary.  Six  months 
ago  Hadji-Ghafour  died.  It  is  necessary  that  the  root 
of  the  matter  be  made  clear,  and  without  mystery.  Every- 
one knows  that  Zeineb-Khanoun  was  not  the  legal  wife  of 
Hadji-Ghafour;  she  cannot,  therefore,  pretend  to  receive 
whatever  of  fortune  there  is  by  right  of  inheritance.  But 
having  learned  this  circumstance,  I  sent  Aga-Kerim  to  you 
to  inform  you  that  if  you  wish  to  take  my  advice,  and  gov- 
ern yourselves  according  to  the  measures  I  shall  take,  I  can 
find  a  way  to  bring  all  this  fortune  into  the  hands  of  Zeineb- 
Khanoun,  As  you  know,  the  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour  is 
an  orphan,  she  has  neither  relatives  nor  family  to  abet 
her.  The  young  lady  has  indeed  a  lover,  but  this  young 
man  is  no  match  for  me.  You  have  accepted  my  pro- 
posals, and  have  forbidden  the  President  of  the  Tribunal 
to  deliver  to  the  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour  the  sum  which 
the  latter  had  deposited  into  the  judge's  hands  until  you 
have  shown  cause  why.  The  President  of  the  Tribunal 
has  held  the  money,  and  has  next  notified  you  and  the 
sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour  to  employ  counsel,  and  to  bring 
your  case  before  the  Tribunal,  in  order  to  state  the  object 


46  AKHOUD-ZAID]& 

of  your  petition.  I  am  the  man  whom  you  have  empow- 
ered to  act  for  you.  But  it  is  necessary  that  madame 
should  Hsten  attentively  to  all  that  I  am  going  to  say,  and 
that  she  comport  herself  in  accordance  with  my  advice ; 
if  she  wishes  the  affair  to  turn  out  in  accordance  with 
our  desires, 

Aga-Abbas.  Certainly.  Nothing  can  be  done  without  this. 
Come,  then,  detail  to  us  the  conditions  which  you  would 
impose  upon  Zeineb. 

Aga-Merdan.  First  of  all,  Zeineb-Khanoun  must  deposit  with 
me  a  fund  of  500  tomans  to  meet  certain  unavoidable  ex- 
penses ;  the  remainder  of  the  dues  will  be  paid  afterward. 
Zeineb-Khanoun  has  herself  declared  to  Aga-Kerim  that 
at  the  death  of  Hadji-Ghafour  there  were  a  thousand 
tomans  left  in  the,  strong-box,  and  that  she  carried  them 
off,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  dead  man's  sister. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  I  make  no  objection  to  your  demands  on 
this  point;  tell  me  your  other  condition. 

Aga-Merdan.  It  will  be  also  necessary,  madame,  that  you  be 
satisfied  with  one-half  of  the  legacy ;  that  is  to  say,  that 
of  the  60,000  tomans  half  goes  to  you  and  the  other  half, 
some  30,000  tomans,  is  to  be  divided  between  Aga-Kerim 
and  me,  as  comrades,  friends,  and  associates. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  Good  gracious,  Aga-Merdan,  but  this  is 
exorbitant ! 

Aga-Merdan.  It  is  by  no  means  excessive,  Madame.  You 
have  no  right  to  this  inheritance ;  the  30,000  tomans  are 
therefore  my  free  gift  to  you. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  What  do  you  mean?  I  have  no  rights? 
For  years  I  have  trudged  up  and  down  the  house  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour  ;  all  the  closet  keys  were  in  my  hands ;  I  had 
all  I  desired,  and  it  was  I  who  controlled  the  expenses. 
So  long  as  Hadji-Ghafour  lived  his  sister  could  not  dis- 
pose of  a  single  franc  of  his.  What  has  happened  that  I 
am  to  be  thrust  on  one  side,  and  that  this  adventuress  is 
to  come  and  carry  off  all  the  money ;  that  she  is  to  drink 
it  up,  and  spend  it  in  order  to  have  a  wedding  with  a  young 
scamp? 

Aga-Merdan.  Such  reasons  as  these  are  not  listened  to  by  the 
Tribunal. 


THE   MAGISTRATES  47 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  What!  not  listened  to?  Ought  not  jus- 
tice to  be  considered  in  a  lawsuit?  For  ten  years  and 
more  this  fortune  remained  in  my  hands,  and  now  I  am 
to  be  stripped  of  it ! 

Aga-Merdan.  Yes,  indeed,  and  you  ought  to  be  stripped  of  it. 
Listen  to  me.  Surrender  one-half  of  this  inheritance,  for 
in  reality  you  have  no  right  to  a  single  penny  of  it.  Aga- 
Abbas  is  well  acquainted  with  the  matter,  and  he  knows 
what  I  say  is  true. 

Aga-Abbas.  Yes,  we  accept  the  condition.  What  conditions 
beside  these  do  you  impose? 

Aga-Merdan.  My  third  condition  is  that  Zeineb-Khanoun 
shall  declare  in  presence  of  the  President  of  the  Tribunal 
that  she  has  by  Hadji-Ghafour  a  child  now  seven  months 
old,  and  still  at  the  breast ;  this  child  she  shall  present 
before  the  Tribunal. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  Oh,  oh,  Aga-Merdan,  this  is  very,  very 
hard.  How  can  I  dare  to  tell  such  a  lie?  That  I  have  a 
child  seven  months  old ! 

Aga-Merdan.  It  is  not  hard  at  all.  While  Hadji-Ghafour  was 
living  you  were  enceinte.  A  month  before  his  death  you 
brought  into  the  world  a  little  boy — now  seven  months  old. 
Is  there  any  difficulty  in  stating  that  ? 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  I  look  upon  you  as  my  father,  Aga-Merdan, 
and  I  will  never  contravene  your  counsels ;  but  this  con- 
dition is  too  hard.  Will  not  people  say  to  me,  knowing 
I  have  never  had  a  child,  "  Where  is  your  child  ?  Where 
is  your  child?  " 

Aga-Merdan.  Don't  distress  yourself  on  that  score.  The  child 
is  all  ready.  You  have  brought  him  into  the  world.  The 
babe  has  been  in  your  arms,  and  in  the  arms  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour.  There  are  even  people  that  will  testify  to  that 
effect.  Don't  distress  yourself  about  these  matters  ;  simply 
make  your  statement,  and  others  will  confirm  it. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  In  the  name  of  God,  Aga-Merdan,  impose 
upon  me  some  condition  that  I  can  fulfil ;  this  is  really  too 
trying.  How  can  I  perpetrate  such  a  falsehood?  I'd 
never  dare  to  talk  in  that  way. 

Aga-Merdan.  You  are  talking  nonsense,  Zeineb-Khanoun!  I 
know  what  you  mean  by  all  this.     Why  would  you  not 


48  ,  AKHOUD-ZAIDE 

dare  to  say  it  ?  Why  are  you  ashamed  to  do  so  ?  Every- 
body knows  that  it  is  the  business  of  women  to  produce 
children.  What  shame  is  there  in  it?  You  have  perhaps 
never  been  enceinte,  and  you  have  never  borne  a  child. 
Let  it  be  so;  but  he  who  wants  to  catch  a  fish  must  put 
his  hand  into  cold  water.  It  is  quite  necessary  that  you 
make  this  declaration.  There  is  no  other  way  of  suc- 
ceeding. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  What  end  do  you  wish  to  gain  by  this, 
Aga-Merdan  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  I  wish  by  this  means  to  have  the  fortune  of 
Hadji-Ghafour  secured  to  you,  and  in  order  to  arrive  at 
this  result,  there  is  no  other  expedient  possible  but  this 
one.  You  cannot  inherit  from  your  husband  in  your  own 
name.  Your  child,  on  the  other  hand,  is  heir  at  law. 
When  the  existence  of  your  child  is  proved  all  the  fortune 
reverts  to  him.  I  will  then  have  myself  without  difficulty 
appointed  his  guardian ;  then  in  five  or  six  months,  I  will 
give  it  out  that  the  child  is  dead,  and  in  that  case  the 
inheritance  will  be  legally  transferred  to  you.  You  will 
take  half  of  it  and  give  me  the  other  half.  God  is  the  best 
foster-father. 
.  Zeineb-Khanoun.  O  you  for  whom  I  would  give  my  life, 
can  such  a  lie  be  uttered? 

Aga-Merdan.  If  the  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour  had  anyone  to 
maintain  her  cause  do  you  think  that  she  would  fail  to 
defeat  us?  But  to-day  she  has  no  one  to  oppose  us,  and 
plead  her  cause  for  her.  If  she  had  married  Aga-Hassam, 
the  merchant,  the  business  would  have  been  very  difficult 
for  us.  But  now,  Aga-Hassam,  himself,  and  all  his  influ- 
ential kinsfolk  have  become  enemies  of  this  young  lady ; 
they  desire  that  this  fortune  should  not  be  hers.  The  girl 
is  deserted  and  left  with  her  lover,  who  is  good  for 
nothing. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  Well,  well!  and  this  child  of  whom  you 
speak,  where  is  he? 

Aga-Merdan.  You  are  going  to  see  him  this  moment. — Aga- 
Kerim,  go  and  take  the  child  from  the  arms  of  his  nurse 
there  in  the  chamber.  Bring  him  in  for  madame  to  see. 
[Aga-Kerim  goes  out  to  fetch  the  child. \ 


THE   MAGISTRATES  49 


Scene  IV 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  Is  she  a  wet-nurse? 

Aga-Merdan.  No,  it  is  his  own  mother  who  has  him  at  the 
breast.  But  she  becomes  his  nurse  now.  [Aga-Kerim  re- 
turns, carrying  the  child  in  his  arms.  Aga-Merdan  takes 
it  and  gives  it  to  Zeineb-Khanoun.] 

Scene  V 

Aga-Merdan.  This  is  your  child.  You  see  his  eyes  and  brows 
are  exactly  those  of  Hadji-Ghafour. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  My  God,  one  might  take  it  for  his  portrait ! 
But  I  fear  that  at  the  trial  my  tongue  will  refuse  to  tell 
this  lie. 

Aga-Merdan.  The  cause  of  your  fears,  Zeineb-Khanoun,  is 
that  you  are  not  persuaded  that  you  yourself  are  not  the 
mother  of  this  child.  You  must,  before  everything  else, 
bear  well  in  mind  that  this  is  your  child,  or  else  you  will 
lose  countenance  at  the  hearing,  and  will  stand  before  the 
judge  with  closed  mouth.  Have  no  fear,  and  give  me 
your  word  that  you  will  make  the  declaration  as  I  dictate. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  Yes,  I  promise  you,  if  I  am  able. 

Aga-Merdan.  You-will  be  able,  please  God.  It  would  be  fine, 
in  truth,  if  your  sister-in-law  should  carry  off  the  whole 
inheritance,  and  squander  it  with  a  scamp,  trimming  his 
mustache  with  it. 

Zeineb-Khanoun.  Yes,  by  God,  you  are  right.  But  one  thing 
troubles  me.  Will  not  the  advocate  of  Sekine-Khanoun 
discover  my  falsehood  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  See  how  frightened  she  is  of 
him !  Fear  nothing.  He  won't  say  a  single  word  to  ex- 
pose you.  Go  now  and  get  your  application  to  the  judge 
drawn  up.  All  must  be  ready  by  to-morrow.  As  for  me, 
I  have  another  matter  to  attend  to.  Another  person  is 
looking  for  me ;  I  have  a  thousand  suits  in  hand.  Take 
Aga-Kerim  with  you,  and  give  him  the  500  tomans ;  he 
will  bring  them  to  me. 

Aga-Abbas.  The  money  is  ready.    We  have  brought  it.    Aga- 
Kerim  had  told  us  to  do  so  beforehand. 
4 


50  AKHOUD-ZAIDlâ 

Aga-Merdan.  Very  good ;  leave  it  with  me  and  retire.  [Aga- 
Abbas  puts  down  the  sum  of  money  in  a  purse  before  Aga- 
Kerim.  At  the  moment  when  Zeineb  and  Aga- Abbas 
rise  to  depart  Nasser,  the  valet  of  the  Prince  Royal,  ap- 
proaches Aga-Merdan.] 

Scene  VI 

Nasser.  Good-day,  gentlemen.  Aga-Merdan,  the  Prince 
Royal  begs  that  you  will  come  to  his  house  this  evening  and 
spend  an  hour  with  him.  He  requires  your  services  in  an 
important  affair. 

Aga-Merdan.  Tell  your  master  in  reply  that  I  am  at  his  ser- 
vice. [  The  lackey  retires.  Soon  afterward,  Eced,  the  ser- 
vant of  the  President  of  the  Tribunal,  arrives. 'I 

Scene  VII 

Eced.  Good-day,  gentlemen.  Aga-Merdan,  my  master  invites 
you  to  dine  with  him  this  evening  at  the  home  of  Hadji- 
Semi.  He  has  pressing  business  on  which  he  wishes  to 
consult  you. 

Aga-Merdan.  You  may  tell  your  master  that  I  will  be  there, 
and  consent  merely  to  please  him.  [Aga-Abbas  and  his 
sister  retire.] 

Scene  VIII 

Aga-Kerim.  I  do  not  understand  where  this  messenger  of 
the  Prince  Royal  and  this  servant  of  the  judge  came 
from. 

Aga-Merdan.  I  felt  that  the  wor^an  might  be  troubled  with 
regard  to  the  conditions  which  I  imposed  upon  her.  This 
is  the  reason  why  I  bribed  these  individuals  to  deliver  such 
messages  in  her  presence.  I  did  so  in  order  that  she 
might  imagine  me  to  be  the  friend  of  the  Prince  Royal 
and  the  boon  companion  of  the  President  of  the  Tribunal, 
in  order  that  she  might  recover  her  spirits.  I  was  afraid 
that  otherwise  she  would  not  dare  to  make  her  allega- 
tions at  the  hearing  of  the  case,  and  so  we  should  be  non- 
suited. 

Aga-Kerim.  By  God,  your  idea  was  a  happy  one,  but  at  the 
hearing  of  the  case  we  must  keep  our  eye  on  her.    If  pos- 


THE   MAGISTRATES  51 

sible  we  must  manage  that  she  gives  her  evidence  after 
I  have  brought  on  the  witnesses.  You  will  promise  her 
as  her  share  500  tomans ;  fifty  in  cash,  and  the  balance 
later.  The  witnesses  shall  each  have  thirty  tomans ;  fif- 
ten  in  cash,  and  fifteen  afterward.  We  will  give  up  this 
sum  after  winning  the  lawsuit,  in  order  that  the  inspector 
may  not  poke  his  nose  into  our  business ;  but  you  know 
that  the  affair  cannot  be  made  to  succeed  without  his  aid, 
he  is  so  crafty.  You  know  he  has  already  on  one  occasion 
detected  our  game.    We  cannot  cheat  him. 

Aga-Kerim.  Very  good.  I  will  go  and  see  about  it.  [He  rises 
from  his  seat  to  retire.] 

Aga-Merdan.  By  the  by,  just  stop  one  moment.  I  have  an 
idea  which  I  wish  to  communicate,  and  do  not  forget  the 
hint.  When  you  see  the  widow  of  Hadji-Ghafour,  give 
her  to  understand,  in  one  way  or  another,  that  she  must 
not  call  me  "  father."  As  sure  as  death  you  must  attend 
to  this.  I  don't  like  the  woman  to  address  me  by  such  a 
name  as  father,  as  if  they  thought  it  pleased  me.  What 
need  can  there  be  to  call  me  by  this  title? 

Aga-Kerim.  Well !  Well !  Do  not  swear  any  more.  I  know 
what  you  are  driving  at.  Let  your  mind  be  easy.  I  will 
tell  her  not  to  call  you  her  father  again,  but  to  call  you  her 
lord.  [Aga-Kerim  leaves,  and  on  his  dcparticre,  Aga- 
S elman  enters.] 

Scene  IX 

Aga-Selman.  Good-day,  Aga-Merdan. 

Aga-Merdan.  Ah,  good-day !  Come  now,  how  are  things  get- 
ting along  ? 

Aga-Selman.  I  am  intrusted  with  the  defence ;  it  is  all  ar- 
ranged. But,  tell  me,  what  do  you  think  is  now  to  be 
done? 

Aga-Merdan.  I  think  we  would  do  well  to  prepare  the  wit- 
nesses, and  to  take  them  to  the  court-room.  What  hon- 
orarium have  you  been  promised  ? 

Aga-Selman.  They  have  promised  me  only  500  tomans ;  their 
witnesses,  they  say,  are  all  ready,  the  course  of  the  trial 
plain,  and  there  is  nothing  either  obscure  or  mysterious  in 
it.     I  have  expressed  my  satisfaction. 


52  akhoud-zaid£ 

Aga-Merdan.  You  have  done  well;  but  you  know  that  there 
is  not  much  profit  in  defending  a  good  cause.  The  widow 
of  Hadji-Ghafour  sacrifices  30,000  tomans,  these  30,000 
tomans  will  be  for  us  two  and  for  Aga-Kerim.  Have  you 
ascertained  the  names  of  the  witnesses  ?  Have  you  learned 
their  addresses  ? 

Aga-Selman.  Yes,  I  have  learned  and  noted  all  these  things. 
These  witnesses  are  four  soldiers :  Bedel,  Quhreman,  Chaf- 
fer, and  Nezer — all  of  Nerd j  i  Street. 

Aga-Merdan.  I  must  send  and  fetch  them,  and  impress  upon 
them  to  testify  exactly  opposite  to  what  they  saw.  But, 
first  of  all,  you  must  go  and  find  them,  and  beg  them,  on 
your  part,  to  bear  faithful  testimony.  As  soldiers  are  will- 
ing but  poor,  much  the  same  as  wretched  beggars,  these 
men  will  ask  you  what  present  you  intend  to  make  them 
after  the  trial.  "  My  children,"  you  must  answer  them, 
"  in  an  affair  like  this,  it  is  not  good  to  ask  for  a  fee.  You 
ought  to  give  in  your  testimony  solely  for  the  sake  of 
pleasing  God,  and  he  will  fully  reward  you  on  the  day  of 
the  resurrection." 

Aga-Selman.  Very  good. 

Aga-Merdan.  You  cannot  guess  even  approximately  what  will 
be  the  testimony  of  these  soldiers  ? 

Aga-Selman.  Oh,  yes,  I  know  that.  They  will  declare  that 
two  hours  before  the  death  of  Hadji-Ghafour  they  betook 
themselves  to  his  home,  and  that  he  said  to  them :  "  I  am 
dying;  and  have  no  one  in  the  world  surviving  me  but  a 
sister.    Bury  me  as  soon  as  I  am  dead." 

Aga-Merdan.  Very  good ;  but  they  will  have  to  change  that, 
and  say  that  Hadji-Ghafour  had  a  little  son  one  month 
old.  Exert  yourself  now,  and  go  after  these  soldiers. 
[Aga-Selman  rises  and  leaves.] 

Scene  X 

Aga-Merdan  [alojie].  Thanks  be  to  God,  events  are  turning 
out  excellently.  This  is  the  time  when  Aga-Kerim  is  to 
bring  his  witnesses.  [At  this  moment  the  door  opens,  and 
Aga-Kerim  enters  the  room  with  the  Inspector  of  the  Mar- 
ket and  four  other  individuals. 'I 


THE   MAGISTRATES 


53 


Scene  XI 

The  Inspector.  Good-day,  Aga-Merdan. 

Aga-Merdan  [to  Aga-Kcrim,  zvithout  turning  or  recognising 
the  Inspector] .  Good-day,  you  have  found  the  Inspector  ? 

The  Inspector.  No  need  to  find  him,  for  he  was  never  lost. 
That  was  an  odd  question  of  yours,  Aga-Merdan.  I  see 
that  you  do  not  yet  recognize  me. 

Aga-Merdan  [first  of  all  leading  aside  Aga-Kerini].  Go  and 
fetch  Aga-Selman,  and  make  him  point  out  to  you  the 
soldiers  he  spoke  of,  then  bring  them  to  me.  [Turns  to- 
ward the  Inspector.]  My  lord,  present  these  gentlemen 
to  me  and  inform  me  what  sort  of  men  they  are. 

The  Inspector.  Here  is  Hepou,  a  professional  gambler,  who 
arrived  here  from  Ardebil  yesterday ;  the  next  is  the  fa- 
mous Cheida,  of  Quzvin,  who  keeps  a  bank  during  the 
day,  and  dissipates  during  the  night ;  then  follows  Qour- 
ban-Ali,  of  Hamaden,  who  is  Jack-of-all-trades  during  the 
night,  a  hosier  in  the  bazaar  by  daylight,  and  lodges  with 
me  at  night. 

Aga-Merdan.  God  be  praised,  they  are  all  honest  people,  of 
good  standing.  But  the  profession  of  Hepou  is  slightly 
open  to  suspicion.  There  will  be  some  distrust  roused  by 
his  presence. 

The  Inspector.  Do  not  be  alarmed.  Hepou  is  an  old  fox 
who  will  fool  anyone.  Do  you  wish  him  to  appear  as  a 
distinguished  merchant  he  will  present  himself  before 
you,  and  you  yourself  would  not  recognize  him.  You 
are  doubtless  unaware  of  the  fact  that  he  is  of  a  race  whose 
skill  has  been  tested.  He  is  the  son  of  Heides-Qouli,  whose 
foot  was  cut  off.  One  day,  Heides-Qouli  was  seen  in  the 
city  of  Eher.  He  traversed  on  foot  two  posts  during  the 
night,  and  reached  Tebriz,  stole  from  the  house  of  the  de- 
funct governor  a  casket  of  pearls  belonging  to  the  latter, 
and  returned  to  Eher  the  same  night ;  at  dawn,  he  was 
found  asleep  in  the  corridor  of  the  caravansary.  Every- 
one was  astounded  at  this  feat.  It  was  only  on  account  of 
the  credit  he  got  for  it  that  he  was  not  put  to  death  im- 
mediately on  detection.  They  merely  cut  off  his  foot  and 
let  him  go. 


54 


AKHOUD-ZAIDE 


Aga-Merdan.  This,  then,  is  the  son  of  Heides  of  the  docked 
foot?  Very  good;  but  we  will  change  his  name.  All 
these  men  are  well  acquainted  with  legal  procedure,  are 
they  not  ? 

The  Inspector.  Let  your  mind  be  easy  on  that  point;  they 
are  all  educated;  by  my  life,  they  could  make  slippers 
for  the  devil.  There  is  none  like  them;  every  day 
they  meet  together  and  offer  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  the 
mosque. 

Aga-Merdan.  Very  good.  Do  they  know  what  sort  of  testi- 
mony they  are  expected  to  give  ? 

The  Inspector.  No,  you  will  have  to  teach  them  that  your- 
self. 

Aga-Merdan.  Good.  They  must  depose  as  follows :  One 
evening  at  sunset  a  week  before  the  death  of  Hadji-Gha- 
four,  we  were  going  all  four  of  us  to  pay  a  visit  to  the 
houses  of  the  dead.  In  passing  before  the  house  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour  we  saw  him  standing  at  his  gate  and  holding  in 
his  arms  a  babe  in  long  clothes.  We  saluted  him,  and 
asked  him  how  his  health  was  ?  "  Whose  child  is  that  ?  " 
we  said  to  him.  "  It  is  my  own,"  he  answered,  "  he  was 
born  three  weeks  ago.  He  is  my  only  son ;  I  have  no  other 
child." 

The  Inspector  [turning  to  the  zmtnesses].  Do  you  under- 
stand, boys  ? 

Hepou.  Yes,  we  understand. 

Aga-Merdan.  Can  you  repeat  the  story  as  I  told  it? 

Hanife.  Undoubtedly  so ;  there  are  no  far-fetched  expressions 
to  puzzle  us. 

Aga-Merdan.  Very  good,  my  friends.     May  God  bless  you! 

Cheida.  How  in  the  name  of  everything,  Aga-Merdan,  would 
God  bless  such  a  transaction  as  this  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  Why  not?  My  dear  friend,  if  you  were  ac- 
quainted with  the  whole  afifair  you  would  certainly  say 
yourself  that  God  would  bless  it.  The  unhappy  widow 
of  Hadji-Gliafour  has  been  for  ten  years  mistress  of  his 
house  and  fortune.  Would  it  be  just  that  a  sickly  wench 
should  carry  off  all  this  money,  and  proceed  to  enjoy  it 
with  a  base  loafer,  a  heretic,  and  for  the  sole  reason  that 
the  latter  is  to  have  criminal  relations  with  her?    Accord- 


THE   MAGISTRATES  55 

ing  to  the  words  of  your  doctors,  the  Sunnites  are  ex- 
cluded from  the  court  of  heaven. 

Cheida.  Now,  by  God,  but  you  speak  the  truth ! 

The  Inspector.  Come  now,  Aga-Merdan,  fix  the  fee  to  be 
paid  the  boys. 

Aga-Merdan.  What?  Has  not  Aga-Kerim  done  so?  I  said 
that  I  would  give  thirty  tomans  to  each  of  those  gentlemen. 
You  know,  yourself,  what  your  share  is  to  be. 

The  Inspector.  Yes,  but  you  must  advance  to  the  lads  the 
half  of  their  fee. 

Aga-Merdan.  Most  willingly,  if  you  will  now  retire.  Aga- 
Kerim  will  bring  your  fifty  tomans  for  yourself,  as  well  as 
half  of  the  fee  to  be  paid  to  each  of  these  young  men. 

The  Inspector.  Very  good.  God  protect  you.  [The  Inspec- 
tor retires  with  his  followers,  then  the  door  opens  again, 
and  four  soldiers  enter  with  Aga-Kerim.^ 

Scene  XII 

The  Soldiers.  Good-day,  sir. 

Aga-Merdan.  Good-day,  my  lads.  Be  good  enough  to  take  a 
seat.  You  are  extremely  welcome.  Excuse  the  trouble 
which  I  have  given  you. 

One  of  the  Soldiers.  Don't  mention  it,  sir ;  it  is  ours  to  be 
grateful  for  the  honor  of  entering  the  house  of  a  man  so 
honorable. 

Aga-Merdan.  A  well-educated  man  is  well  received  anywhere. 
Have  you  lunched  ? 

The  Soldiers.  No,  we  arrived  before  luncheon  time. 

Aga-Merdan.  Aga-Kerim,  send  someone  to  the  bazaar  to 
purchase  for  the  boys  four  portions  of  rice  of  kebah,  like- 
wise of  ice  and  citron  cup.  See  there  be  an  extra  supply 
of  kebah,  for  they  are  very  hungry.  You'll  like  a  great 
deal,  won't  you? 

A  Soldier.  Why  take  all  this  trouble,  my  lord?  We  will  re- 
pair ourselves  to  the  bazaar,  and  eat  a  bit  there. 

Aga-Merdan.  What  trouble  is  it,  my  dear  friend  ?  It  is  lunch 
time,  why  should  you  wish  to  leave  my  house  fasting  and 
famished?     Please  God,  my  plan  is  best. 

The  Soldier.  My  lord,  what  do  you  desire  of  us  ? 


56  AKHOUD-ZAIDfi 

Aga-Merdan.  Nothing  much,  my  lad ;  I  only  wish  to  ask  you 
a  plain  question. 

The  Soldier.  Speak,  my  lord — two  if  you  like. 

Aga-Merdan.  Did  you  bear  to  burial  Hadji-Ghafour? 

The  Soldier.  Yes,  my  lord,  it  was  we  who  buried  him.  Why 
do  you  ask  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  Ah,  I  congratulate  you  on  your  generous  con- 
duct. Your  company  is  always  a  great  honor,  not  only 
because  you  are  the  defenders  of  Islam,  but  also  because 
you  do  good  service  to  all  people  in  their  days  of  distress. 
While  the  cholera  prevailed  there  remained  scarce  a  living 
soul  in  the  town ;  you  alone  did  not  quit  it,  making  in 
advance  the  sacrifice  of  your  lives.  May  the  Thrice  Holy 
Majesty  of  God  reward  you  worthily  for  this!  But 
did  you  ever  see  Hadji-Ghafour  when  he  was  alive,  my 
son? 

The  Soldier.  Yes,  my  lord,  we  saw  him  alive. 

Aga-Merdan.  In  that  case,  you  must  also  at  his  side  have  seen 
his  little  son  in  long  clothes,  who  was  then  a  month  old. 

The  Soldier.  No,  my  lord,  we  never  saw  him. 

Aga-Merdan.  Perhaps  he  was  at  that  moment  in  his  mother's 
arms? 

The  Soldier.  No,  my  lord.  We  asked  Hadji-Ghafour  how 
many  children  he  had,  sons  or  daughters,  big  or  little,  and 
he  answered  that  only  a  sister  would  survive  him. 

Aga-Merdan.  That  is  possible;  he  did  not  count  his  son  be- 
cause the  latter  was  only  a  baby,  one  month  old.  But  this 
babe  was  then  in  the  arms  of  his  mother ;  other  people 
have  seen  him  there ;  and  I  believe  that  you  have  also 
seen  him.  There  is  no  harm  done ;  it  is  all  right.  But  in 
this  case  what  testimony  will  you  give  ?  For,  as  you  know, 
there  is  a  lawsuit  between  the  heirs  as  to  the  rights  of  suc- 
cession. 

The  Soldier.  We  will  testify  of  what  we  have  been  informed. 
The  advocate  of  Hadji-Ghafour's  sister  has  already  ques- 
tioned us  on  this  point,  and  we  have  corroborated  his  ac- 
count. 

Aga-Merdan.  Ah,  I  understand  why  you  speak  thus;  it  is 
because  the  discourse  of  this  wretched  renegade  has  pro- 
duced an  impression  on  your  mind.    Therefore  you  deny 


THE    MAGISTRATES 


57 


the  existence  of  the  child.  He  has  doubtless  promised  you 
for  this  twenty  tomans,  and  has  advanced  you  ten. 

The  Soldier.  No,  my  lord,  he  did  not  promise  us  a  penny,  and 
even  w^hen  we  asked  for  a  little  present  he  told  us  that  a 
witness  ought  to  be  disinterested,  and  that  we  ought  to 
expect  our  recompense  from  God  alone. 

Aga-Merdan.  Oh,  the  accursed  rogue !  See  how  mean,  grasp- 
ing, and  close  he  is !  He  won't  let  anyone  profit  by  a 
penny  excepting  himself,  and  while  he  tries  unjustly  to  ob- 
tain evidence  in  his  favor,  in  a  suit  for  60,000  tomans,  he 
grudges  to  spend  twenty  or  thirty  tomans  on  such  kind 
young  fellows  as  you !  By  God,  there  is  not  in  the  whole 
world  another  wretch  like  him !  May  God  punish  him  by 
utter  ruin!  His  work  is  unjust,  and  his  conduct  ignoble, 
and  he  himself  a  skinflint  and  a  robber. 

The  Soldier.  How  is  his  work  unjust,  my  lord? 

Aga-Merdan.  Because  he  evidently  wishes  to  deny  the  exist- 
ence of  the  little  seven  months'  old  child  of  Hadji-Ghafour. 
He  wishes  to  cast  out  this  child,  and  deprive  him  of  his 
patrimony,  in  order  that  the  sister  of  Hadji-Ghafour  may 
get  it.  But  God  will  not  favor  this  action ;  he  will  prove 
that  the  child  is  still  alive,  and  that  his  existence  cannot  be 
overlooked.  Can  such  a  thing  be  denied?  I  am  the  de- 
fender of  this  poor  little  orphan.  I  have  sworn  to  give 
thirty  tomans  to  whoever  will  testify  in  favor  of  this  child, 
and  as  I  know  and  believe  that  you  have  seen  him  I  have 
this  sum  ready  here,  in  cash.  But  what  good  is  it  after 
all,  since  you  say  that  you  have  no  recollection  of  the  child  ? 
Yet  perhaps  if  you  were  to  see  him  now,  your  mind  might 
recall  him. — Aga-Kerim,  go  into  the  house,  take  the  child 
from  the  arms  of  its  mother,  Zeineb-Khanoun,  and  bring 
him  here.  [Aga-Kerim  soon  returns  with  the  little  boy, 
whom  he  has  found  in  the  next  room.] 

Scene  XIII 

Aga-Merdan.  Consider  well,  my  lads,  how  is  it  possible  that 
you  have  not  seen  this  little  boy?  Would  it  be  humane 
to  let  another  person  swallow  up  the  heritage  of  this  little 
orphan  who  cannot  speak  to  defend  himself,  and  that  the 


58  AKHOUD-ZAIDE 

unhappy  creature  be  abandoned  to  sigh  and  mourn  in  the 
streets  and  behind  doors.  Perhaps  in  the  excitement  of  all 
this  trouble  you  have  paid  no  attention  to  this  child. 
There  are  times  when  people  seem  to  lose  their  heads. — 
Aga-Kerim,  take  from  the  closet  the  offering  of  this  young 
child,  and  bring  it  here.  [Aga-Kerim  immediately  takes 
from  the  closet  four  packets  zvrapped  in  paper  and  lays 
them  within  Aga-Merdan's  reach.] 

Aga-Merdan.  My  dear  friends,  beside  the  reward  which  God 
will  most  certainly  give  you,  this  little  orphan  has  made 
to  each  one  of  you  an  offering  of  thirty  tomans  enclosed  in 
these  four  sheets  of  paper.  He  is  not  like  that  cursed  Aga- 
Selman,  who  would  impose  upon  you  a  dishonest  action, 
yet  from  avarice  gives  you  nothing  as  a  recompense. 

A  Soldier  [suddenly  turning  to  his  comrades].  Tell  me, 
Quhreman,  am  I  mistaken,  for  it  seems  to  me  that  I  do 
recall  hearing  the  voice  of  a  little  child,  while  we  were  at 
the  house  of  Hadji-Ghafour. 

Quhreman.  Yes,  I  remember  it;  there  was  a  woman  seated 
in  the  corner  of  the  house  and  she  held  in  her  arms  a  little 
child  in  long  clothes. 

Ghaffer.  Why,  of  course!  I  remember  that  Hadji-Ghafour 
said  to  us :  "  This  is  my  wife,  and  this  little  child  is  my 
son ;  his  mother  brought  him  into  the  world  a  month 
ago." 

Nezer.  Well,  now,  to  think  how  we  have  forgotten  this  inci- 
dent! It  is  true,  there  are  days  when  people  lose  their 
wits.  Yes,  indeed;  did  not  Hadji-Ghafour  ask  us  to 
watch  over  his  house,  his  wife,  and  his  little  child,  until 
the  inhabitants  returned,  for  fear  that  the  villains  of  the 
town  should  do  them  some  harm? 

All  the  Soldiers  [in  chorus].  Yes,  he  commended  to  our 
care  his  wife  and  his  child. 

Aga-Merdan.  May  God  bless  you,  my  lads !  I  knew  well  that 
you  would  recall  it  to  mind.  Accept,  then,  the  offering  of 
this  orphan,  and  spend  it  as  you  choose.  After  the  trial  is 
.  over,  please  God,  ten  tomans  more  will  come  to  each  one 
of  you.  A  good  and  sincere  action  is  never  lost.  My  lads, 
bear  witness  before  the  Tribunal  exactly  as  you  have  done 
here,  and  afterward  pocket  your  money. 


THE    MAGISTRATES  59 

One  of  the  Soldiers.  But,  my  lord,  we  have  promised  to 
Aga-Selman  to  testify  in  his  favor.  Must  we  meanwhile 
inform  him  that  we  cannot  be  his  witnesses  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  No  ;  you  need  not  say  anything  to  him.  Let 
him  think  all  the  time  that  you  are  his  witnesses,  and  that 
he  himself  brings  you  before  the  Tribunal ;  when  there,  de- 
liver your  testimony  just  as  you  have  now  done.  Aga- 
Selman  has  no  rights  over  you,  and  he  can  make  no  claim 
upon  you.  If  he  asks  why  you  speak  so,  you  must  answer 
that  it  is  because  you  know  what  the  truth  is,  and  are  bear- 
ing witness  to  it.  Then,  you  shall  pocket  your  money.  The 
rice  has  come;  go  into  that  room  and  do  me  the  favor  to 
rest  yourselves.  But  I  have  one  thing  to  ask  of  you ;  no 
one  must  know  that  you  have  been  summoned,  and  have 
come  here.  It  is  solely  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  God  that 
you  will  keep  this  secret,  but  I  promise  in  return  for  your 
secrecy  to  give  to  each  one  of  you  a  Bokhara  hat. 

The  Soldiers.  Have  no  fear  on  this  point,  my  lord. 

Aga-Merdan.  Aga-Kerim,  lead  these  good  fellows  into  that 
room  that  they  may  take  their  repast ;  afterward  you  may 
dismiss  them. 

Scene  XIV 

Aga-Merdan  [alone].  So  far,  so  good.  Let  us  start  for  the 
court.  I  am  going  to  get  the  assessors  on  my  side,  and  to 
prepare  them  to  act,  so  that  to-morrow,  at  the  time  of  de- 
liberation, they  may  give  me  the  necessary  assistance. 


6o  AKHOUD-^ZAIDĞ 

ACT  THIRD 

Scene  I 

The  scene  is  the  Tribunal.  The  President  is  seated  on  a 
cushion,  in  the  place  of  honor,  having  Aga-Rehim  on  his  right, 
and  Aga-Djebbar  on  his  left.  By  their  side  are  seated  the  ordi- 
nary assessors  of  the  Tribunal,  Aga-Bechin  and  Aga-Settar. 
On  a  lozver  bench  is  Aga-Merdan,  advocate  of  Hadji-Gha- 
four's  widow,  lolling  easily  upon  his  seat. 

Aga-Bechin  [addressing  the  President  of  the  Tribunal].  Have 
you  detected,  my  lord,  by  your  intelligence  and  wisdom, 
the  wiles  of  that  woman  who  came  yesterday  to  lodge  a 
complaint  ?  She  stole  three  tomans  from  her  husband ;  she 
was  herself  bruised  with  blows,  and  had  artfully  smeared 
her  face  with  blood,  and  torn  her  hair — then  she  lodged  a 
complaint  against  her  husband. 

The  President.  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  this  woman  inspired 
me  with  suspicion  ?     We  must  clear  the  matter  up. 

Aga-Bechin.  Yes,  my  lord,  I  wish  merely  to  remark  how 
marvellous  is  your  sagacity!  None  in  the  whole  court 
doubted  the  sincerity  of  this  woman,  but  you  at  the 
first  glance  made  us  suspicious,  and  you  were  quite 
right. 

The  President.  In  such  cases  my  opinion  is  often  in  accord- 
ance with  the  facts. 

Aga-Bechin.  One  is  quite  right  in  the  opinion  that  govern- 
ments are  guided  by  Divine  wisdom.  What  is  this  sus- 
picion but  a  direct  inspiration  from  God? 

Aga-Rehim.  You  seem  very  much  astonished  at  it,  Aga- 
Bechin,  but  the  most  Holy  Majesty  of  God  chooses  for  their 
merit,  and  places  at  the  head  of  their  contemporaries,  those 
of  his  servants  whom  he  has  distinguished  by  special  favor. 
Now,  the  most  Holy  Majesty  of  God  has  distinguished 
the  President  of  the  Tribunal  with  quite  extraordinary 
gifts  in  regard  to  the  knowledge  of  aflfairs.  Would  you 
like  to  know  what  this  really  is?  It  is  not  inspiration; 
it  is,  to  my  mind,  a  special  gift  of  grace  from  God. 


THE   MAGISTRATES  6i 

Aga-Djebbar.  Yes,  you  have  the  choice  of  the  two  opinions, 
either  of  which  may  be  maintained.  Is  it  not  so,  Aga- 
Merdan  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  Undoubtedly.     It  is  certainly  so. 

Aga-Rehim.  Aga-Merdan,  how  is  the  little  boy  of  Hadji-Gha- 
four  getting  on  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  Very  well,  thank  God.  His  mother  under- 
stands it  all,  and  he  will  come  as  soon  as  he  is  summoned 
to  appear. 

Aga-Djebbar.  He  must  be  fully  seven  months  old,  is  he  not? 

Aga-Merdan.  Yes,  exactly  seven  months. 

The  President.  How  is  this?  Does  a  son  survive  Hadji-Gha- 
four?    They  told  me  that  he  had  no  child. 

Aga-Bechin.  But  he  had  one,  my  lord;  you  have  been  misin- 
formed. He  left  a  little  boy  who  is  as  beautiful  as  a  cres- 
cent moon.  Yesterday,  as  we  returned  from  prayer,  we 
saw  him  on  the  doorstep  in  the  arms  of  his  nurse. 

Aga-Merdan.  He  and  Hadji-Ghafour  are  ?.s  much  alike  as 
two  halves  of  an  apple. 

Aga-Settar,  Do  you  recall,  my  lord,  the  features  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour  ? 

The  President.  Yes,  it  is  not  so  long  since  he  died. 

Aga-Settar.  Well,  when  you  see  the  face  of  this  child  you 
would  think  at  first  sight  that  you  beheld  that  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour. 

The  President.  I  did  not  know  that.  It  is  very  good.  But 
tell  me,  Aga-Merdan,  if  there  is  a  son  of  Hadji-Ghafour 
living,  it  is  a  waste  of  time  to  open  the  case.  It  is  evident 
that  the  fortune  of  his  father  ought  to  revert  to  this  child, 
and  in  such  a  case  the  other  relatives  and  collateral  heirs 
have  no  claim  upon  it. 

Aga-Merdan  [in  a  tone  of  perfect  hiiniility].  My  lord,  if  I 
recounted  to  you  the  reason  on  which  their  claims  are 
based,  you  might  doubt  of  my  sincerity.  But  Aga-Bechin 
will  tell  you  the  whole  story. 

Aga-Bechin.  Permit  me  to  relate  the  whole  affair,  my  lord. 
Hadji-Ghafour  left  a  sister,  Sekine-Khanoun.  This 
woman  is  infatuated  with  a  young  man,  whom  she  loves 
to  madness,  and  wishes  to  wed.  But  the  rogue  does  not 
so  take  it ;  he  reminds  her  that  he  has  nothing  and  expects 


62  AKHOUD-ZAID]Ğ 

no  fortune  to  come  to  him.  What  would  he  do  with  her  ? 
Meanwhile  the  damsel  works  tooth  and  nail  to  get  into  her 
own  hands  the  inheritance  left  by  Hadji-Ghafour,  and  so 
to  bring  about  a  marriage  with  this  youngster.  Her  aunt 
wishes  to  marry  her  to  the  merchant  Aga-Hassam,  who 
is  a  rich  and  distinguished  man;  she  refuses.  She  has 
chosen  an  advocate,  and  set  up  witnesses  in  support  of  her 
plea  that  Hadji-Ghafour  left  no  child,  and  that  the  60,000 
tomans  that  constitute  his  heritage  ought  to  come  to  her. 
The  woman  is  half-witted  if  she  imagines  that  she  can 
carry  off  the  heritage  of  Hadji-Ghafour  by  means  of  such 
tricks  and  artifices.  This  is  an  absurd  idea,  and  she  is 
giving  herself  a  great  deal  of  useless  trouble. 

The  President.  Very  well.  The  affair  is  not  so  complicated 
or  involved  as  to  detain  the  court  long ;  we  shall  probably 
be  able  to  decide  and  pass  sentence  in  two  hours.  The 
two  parties  must  support  their  claims  by  testimony  and 
proofs. 

Aga-Merdan.  Yes,  my  lord,  the  witnesses  are  all  ready. 

Aga-Settar  [to  the  President  of  the  Tribunal].  There  were 
brought  here  yesterday,  my  lord,  two  little  abandoned 
orphans.  "  We  will  look  out,"  you  said,  "  for  a  servant  of 
God,  pious  and  charitable,  and  confide  the  children  to  him." 
I  believe  you  would  do  wisely  by  placing  them  in  the  care 
of  Aga-Merdan.  He  will  care  for  them  as  if  they  were 
his  own,  for  he  is  always  on  the  search  for  an  opportunity 
of  doing  good. 

The  President.  Very  good.  Do  you  consent  to  this,  Aga- 
Merdan  ? 

Aga-Merdan.  With  all  my  heart,  my  lord.  I  will  care  for  them 
as  if  they  were  my  own  children. 

The  President.  May  the  Master  of  the  Universe  recompense 
you  as  you  deserve !  [The  door  opens  during  these  prelim- 
inaries and  Aga-Sehnan  enters  with  Aziz-Bey,  in  com- 
pany with  four  soldiers.  Shortly  afterzvard  A ga- Abbas 
and  Z eineb-Khanoun,  the  widozv  of  Hadji-Ghafour,  arrive 
also,  accompanied  by  their  four  witnesses.  Zeineb-Kha- 
noun  sits  doivn  at  one  side  of  the  hall,  enveloped  in  a  long 
veil.  Aga-Selman,  Aziz-Bey,  and  A  ga- Abbas  stand  up 
on  the  other  side  of  the  hall.] 


THE   MAGISTRATES  63 

Scene  II 

The  President.  Aga-Selman,  it  is  said  that  Hadji-Ghafour 
left  a  son.     Can  you  prove  to  the  contrary? 

Aga-Selman.  I  have  witnesses,  my  lord,  who  will  depose  that 
in  the  hour  of  his  death,  Hadji-Ghafour  declared  to  them 
that  he  had  no  other  heir  but  his  sister,  Sekine-Khanoun. 

The  President.  Let  the  witnesses  make  their  statement. 

Aga-Selman  [turning  to  the  soldiers].  Make  your  state- 
ment. 

The  First  Soldier.  My  lord,  one  day  before  the  death  of 
Hadji-Ghafour  we  went,  my  comrades  and  I,  to  pay  him  a 
visit.  We  asked  him  whether  he  had  any  children,  sons 
or  daughters,  and  he  replied :  "  I  have  no  one  in  the  world 
but  my  sister,  Sekine-Khanoun." 

The  President.  Swear  by  the  name  of  God  that  this  is  just 
what  you  heard. 

The  First  Soldier.  I  swear  by  the  name  of  God  that  this  is 
just  what  I  heard.  [Aga-Merdan  becomes  quite  pale,  and 
seems  thunderstruck,  as  does  Aga-Selman.] 

The  President  [turning  to  the  other  soldiers].  And  you, 
what  did  you  hear?     Speak  in  turn. 

The  Second  Soldier.  I  call  God's  name  to  witness  that  this 
is  just  what  I  heard. 

The  Third  Soldier.  I  call  God's  name  to  witness  that  I  also 
heard  the  same. 

Aga-Merdan  [in  a  voice  trembling  with  anxiety].  But  at  that 
moment  did  you  not  perceive  a  little  child  in  the  arms  of 
Hadji-Ghafour's  wife? 

The  First  Soldier.  It  was  elsewhere  we  saw  the  little  child. 
Would  you  Hke  us  to  state  where? 

Aga-Merdan.  It  is  well.  Keep  silence.  [Turning  to  the 
President  of  the  Tribunal.]  My  lord,  I  have  witnesses 
who  saw  an  infant  one  month  old  in  the  arms  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour,  on  the  very  day  of  which  the  soldiers  speak. 
"  Whose  child  is  this  ?  "  they  asked  Hadji-Ghafour,  and  he 
said  to  them  in  reply,  "  It  is  my  son."  The  witnesses 
are  yonder,  before  you.  [Beckons  zvitnesscs  to  ad- 
vance.] They  are  all  educated,  honorable,  and  pious 
people. 


64  AKHOUD-ZAIDĞ 

Aga-Settar  [in  a  tone  full  of  kindness  toward  Aga-Merdan]. 
Verily,  Aga-Merdan,  the  father  of  this  young  man  was  a 
certain  Hadji-Cherif. 

Aga-Merdan.  Yes,  may  God  have  mercy  upon  him!  He  be- 
longed to  a  saintly  family. 

Aga-Settar.  The  son  of  such  a  father  cannot  but  be  an  hon- 
orable man,  and  Hadji-Cherif  was  certainly  a  most  strict 
man. 

The  President  [turning  to  the  witnesses].  Tell  me  what  you 
know  about  it. 

Hepou.  Shall  I  tell  all  I  know  ? 

The  President.  Yes,  all  that  you  have  learned  about  this 
affair. 

Hepou.  Well,  my  lord,  yesterday  Aga-Merdan  asked  us  to 
come  to  his  house,  my  companions  and  me.  He  gave  each 
of  us  fifteen  tomans  to  present  ourselves  here  before  you, 
and  to  declare  that  at  the  time  of  the  cholera  we  saw  in 
Hadji-Ghafour's  arms  his  little  child,  then  one  month  old. 
As  I  am  a  gambler  by  profession,  I  accepted  the  money 
and  took  it ;  but  this  money  had  been  given  to  me  for  doing 
evil,  and  brought  me  no  profit.  That  night  I  lost  the  fifteen 
tomans  to  the  last  penny,  for  I  had  fallen  in  with  a  sad 
rogue  to  whom  Leibadj  himself  could  not  hold  a  candle. 
I  know  nothing  more  than  that,  my  lord.  I  have  never 
seen  Hadji-Ghafour,  and  didn't  even  know  him.  [Aga- 
Merdan  gasps  with  excitement.] 

The  President  [to  the  other  witnesses].  And  you,  what  have 
you  to  say  ? 

The  Other  Witnesses  [in  chorus].  We  can  only  repeat  what 
our  comrade  has  said. 

The  President  [to  his  assessors].  And  you  were  affirming 
a  moment  ago  that  Aga-Merdan  was  a  virtuous  man! 
Your  words  prove  your  dishonesty  and  deceit.  Praised  be 
God  in  his  greatness  and  sublimity.  I  do  not  understand 
what  all  this  means. 

Aga-Bechin.  No,  my  lord,  what  proves,  on  the  contrary,  that 
we  are  honest  and  loyal  men  is  that  we  have  given  faith  to 
the  words  of  Aga-Merdan,  and  have  believed  him  to  be  a 
man  of  honor. 

Aga-Rehim  [sotto  voce  to  Aga-Settar].  Oh,  the  liar,  may  the 


THE   MAGISTRATES  65 

devil  take  him!  Do  you  hear  this  scoundrel  Aga-Bechin, 
what  a  good  excuse  he  has  ready  ?  The  President  believes 
him,  and  imagines  that  we  are  really  honest  and  sincere. 
[At  this  moment  the  head  bailiff  of  the  Prince  Royal 
enters.] 

Scene  III 

The  Head  Bailiff  [to  the  President  of  the  Tribunal].  My 
lord,  the  Prince  Royal  asks  whether  the  rights  of  Hadji- 
Ghafour's  sister  have  been  proved? 

The  President.  Yes,  they  have  been  established.  But  does 
the  Prince  Royal  know  how  the  proof  has  been  effected  ? 

The  Head  Bailiff.  Yes,  my  lord.  The  Inspector  of  the 
Market  saw  through  the  designs  of  Aga-Merdan  and  Aga- 
Selman.  He  informed  the  Prince  Royal,  who  took  the 
necessary  measures  for  defeating  their  machinations. 
Meanwhile  the  crime  of  these  two  individuals  has  been 
proved,  and  I  have  received  orders  to  lead  them  into  the 
presence  of  the  Prince  Royal. 

The  President.  Is  Aga-Selman  also  implicated  in  this  plot? 

The  Bailiff.  Yes,  he  was  the  secret  accomplice  of  Aga-Mer- 
dan. [The  bailiff  seises  Aga-Merdan  and  Aga-S elman 
and  carries  them  off.] 

Scene  IV 

The  President.  Aziz-Bey,  you  are  to-day  the  protector  of  Se- 
kine-Khanoun.  Go  and  tell  her  that  in  two  hours  I  will 
take  with  me  the  sum  of  money  left  by  Pladji-Ghafour,  and 
bring  it  to  her,  and  place  it  in  her  hands  before  the  most 
honorable  witnesses. 

Aziz-Bey.  It  is  well,  my  lord ;  I  will  go. 

Scene  V 

Aga-Bechin  [striking  his  hands  together].  By  the  death  of  the 
first-born,  is  it  possible  to  utter  fabrications  such  as  those 
of  this  Aga-Merdan?  O  my  God,  what  dishonest  people 
have  you  created  in  your  world !  By  his  impostures,  this 
wretch  wished  to  set  up  a  son  to  Hadji-Ghafour !  Gen- 
tlemen, have  you  ever  seen  such  audacity?  Ah,  you  may 
5 


66  AKHOUD-ZAIDE 

now  treat  me  as  a  fool,  Aga-Djebbar,  and  may  say  that  I 
am  exceedingly  simple  and  guileless  to  believe  what  the 
first-comer  tells  me. 
Aga-Djebbar  [turning  his  face  and  speaking  sotfo  voce].  Ah, 
the  liar !  May  the  devil  carry  him  off !  Oh,  yes,  you  are 
simple  and  guileless — that  is  well  known,  [Then  in  a 
loud  tone:]  Let  us  adjourn,  gentlemen.  Let  us  abridge 
the  fatigue  of  the  President ;  he  has  gone  through  much 
exertion  to-day.  Why  prolong  this  talk  ?  [  The  President 
of  the  Tribunal  leads  the  way  out  lost  in  thought.  Then 
the  others  rise  and  leave.] 


1^ 


TERPSICHORE :   MUSE  OP  THE  CHORAL  DANCE. 

Photogravure  from  tJie  original  painting  hy  Paul  Baudry  in   the  foyer  of  the 

Grand  Opera -House  at  Paris.  m 

1 


1 


I 


t        *  c       t 


1 


OTTOMAN    POEMS 


[Metrical  Translation  by  E.  J.  W.  Gibb,  M.R.A.S.] 


i 


OTTOMAN  POEMS 


FROM   THE   'ASHIQ    PASHA   DIWANI 

All  the  Universe,  one  mighty  sign,  is  shown; 

God  hath  myriads  of  creative  acts  unknown: 

None  hath  seen  them,  of  the  races  jinn  and  men, 

None  hath  news  brought  from  that  realm  far  off  from  ken. 

Never  shall  thy  mind  or  reason  reach  that  strand, 

Nor  can  tongue  the  King's  name  utter  of  that  land. 

Since  'tis  his  each  nothingness  with  life  to  vest, 

Trouble  is  there  ne'er  at  all  to  his  behest. 

Eighteen  thousand  worlds,  from  end  to  end, 

Do  not  with  him  one  atom's  worth  transcend. 

'Ashiq  Pasha. 


FROM   THE   ISKENDER-NÂMA 

Up  and  sing!     O  'anqa-natured  nightingale! 
High  in  every  business  doth  thy  worth  prevail : 
Sing!  for  good  the  words  are  that  from  thee  proceed; 
Whatsoever  thou  dost  say  is  prized  indeed. 
Then,  since  words  to  utter  thee  so  well  doth  suit, 
Pity  were  it  surely  if  thy  tongue  were  mute. 
Blow  a  blast  in  utt'rance  that  the  Trusted  One, 
When  he  hears,  ten  thousand  times  may  cry :     '*  Well  done ! 
Up  and  sing!     O  bird  most  holy!  up  and  sing! 
Unto  us  a  story  fair  and  beauteous  bring. 
Let  not  opportunity  slip  by,  silent  there ; 
Unto  us  the  beauty  of  each  word  declare. 
Seldom  opportunities  like  this  with  thee  lie ; 
Sing  then,  for  th'  occasion  now  is  thine,  so  hie! 

69 


70  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Lose  not  opportunities  that  thy  hand  doth  find, 

For  some  day  full  suddenly  Death  thy  tongue  shall  bind. 

Of  how  many  singers,  eloquent  of  words. 

Bound  have  Death  and  Doom  the  tongues  fast  in  their  cords! 

Lose  not,  then,  th'  occasion,  but  to  joy  look  now. 

For  one  day  thy  station  'neath  earth  seek  must  thou. 

While  the  tongue  yet  floweth,  now  thy  words  collect; 

Them  as  Meaning's  taper  'midst  the  feast  erect, 

That  thy  words,  remaining  long  time  after  thee, 

To  the  listeners'  hearing  shall  thy  record  be. 

Thy  mementoes  lustrous  biding  here  behind. 

Through  them  they'll  recall  thee,  O  my  soul,  to  mind. 

Those  who've  left  mementoes  ne'er  have  died  in  truth; 

Those  who've  left  no  traces  ne'er  have  lived  in  sooth. 

Surely  with  this  object  didst  thou  come  to  earth, 

That  to  mind  should  ever  be  recalled  thy  worth. 

"  May  I  die  not!"  say'st  thou,  one  of  noble  race? 

Strive,  then,  that  thou  leavest  here  a  name  of  grace. 

Ahmedu 


FROM   THE   ISKENDER-NÂMA 

Once  unto  his  Vezir  quoth  the  crowned  King: 

"  Thou,  who  in  my  world-realm  knowest  everything ! 

With  my  sword  I've  conquered  many  and  many  a  shore ; 

Still  I  sigh  right  sorely :     *  Ah !  to  conquer  more ! ' 

Great  desire  is  with  me  realms  to  overthrow; 

Through  this  cause  I  comfort  ne'er  a  moment  know. 

Is  there  yet  a  country  whither  we  may  wend. 

Where  as  yet  our  mighty  sway  doth  not  extend, 

That  we  may  it  conquer,  conquer  it  outright? 

Ours  shall  be  the  whole  earth — ours  it  shall  be  quite." 

Then,  when  heard  the  Vezir  what  the  King  did  say. 

Quoth  he :     "  Realm-o'erthrowing  Monarch,  live  for  aye ! 

May  the  Mighty  Ruler  set  thy  crown  on  high. 

That  thy  throne  may  ever  all  assaults  defy! 

May  thy  life's  rose-garden  never  fade  away! 

May  thy  glory's  orchard  never  see  decay ! 


FROM   KHUSREV   AND   SHIRİN  71 

Thou'st  the  Peopled  Quarter  ta'en  from  end  to  end; 
All  of  its  inhabitants  slaves  before  thee  bend. 
There's  on  earth  no  city,  neither  any  land, 
That  is  not,  O  Monarch,  under  thy  command. 
In  the  Peopled  Quarter  Seven  Climes  are  known, 
And  o'er  all  of  these  thy  sway  extends  alone !  " 

Ahmedl. 


FROM    KHUSREV   AND    SHÎRÎN 

The  spot  at  which  did  King  Khusrev  Perviz  light 
Was  e'en  the  ruined  dwelling  of  that  moon  bright. 
Whilst  wand'ring  on,  he  comes  upon  that  parterre, 
As  on  he  strolls,  it  opes  before  his  eyes  fair. 
Among  the  trees  a  night-hued  courser  stands  bound 
(On  Heaven's  charger's  breast  were  envy's  scars  found). 
As  softly  moved  he,  sudden  on  his  sight  gleamed 
A  moon  that  in  the  water  shining  bright  beamed. 
O  what  a  moon!  a  sun  o'er  earth  that  light  rains — 
Triumphant,  happy,  blest  he  who  her  shade  gains. 
She'd  made  the  pool  a  casket  for  her  frame  fair, 
And  all  about  that  casket  spread  her  dark  hair. 
Her  hand  did  yonder  curling  serpents  back  throw — 
The  dawn  'tis,  and  thereof  we  never  tired  grow. 
He  saw  the  water  round  about  her  ear  play ; 
In  rings  upon  her  shoulders  her  dark  locks  lay. 
When  yon  heart-winning  moon  before  the  King  beamed. 
The  King  became  the  sun — in  him  Love's  fire  gleamed. 
The  tears  e'en  like  to  water  from  his  eyes  rolled ; — 
Was't  strange,  when  did  a  Watery  Sign  the  Moon  hold? 
No  power  was  left  him,  neither  sport  nor  pleasure; 
He  bit  his  finger,  wildered  beyond  measure. 
Unconscious  of  his  gaze,  the  jasmine-breasted — 
The  hyacinths  o'er  the  narcissi  rested. 
When  shone  her  day-face,  from  that  musky  cloud  bare. 
Her  eyes  oped  Shirin  and  beheld  the  King  there. 
Within  that  fountain,  through  dismay  and  shamed  fright, 
She  trembled  as  on  water  doth  the  moonlight. 


72 


OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Than  this  no  other  refuge  could  yon  moon  find 
That  she  should  round  about  her  her  own  locks  bind. 
The  moon  yet  beameth  through  the  hair,  the  dark  night, 
With  tresses  how  could  be  concealed  the  sun  bright? 
To  hide  her  from  him,  round  her  she  her  hair  flung, 
And  thus  as  veil  her  night  before  her  day  hung. 

Sheykhl. 


FROM    KHUSREV   AND    SHIRIN 

When  Ferhâd  bound  to  fair  Shirin  his  heart's  core, 

From  out  his  breast  Love  many  a  bitter  wail  tore. 

On  tablet  of  his  life  graved,  shown  was  Shirin; 

Of  all  else  emptied,  filled  alone  with  Shirin. 

As  loathed  he  the  companionship  of  mankind, 

In  wild  beasts  'midst  the  hills  did  he  his  friends  find. 

His  guide  was  Pain;  his  boon  companion,  Grief's  throe; 

His  comrade.  Sorrow ;  and  his  closest  friend.  Woe. 

Thus  wand'ring  on,  he  knew  not  day  from  dark  night; 

For  many  days  he  onward  strayed  in  sad  plight. 

Although  before  his  face  a  wall  of  stone  rise, 

Until  he  strikes  against  it,  blind  his  two  eyes. 

Through  yearning  for  his  love  he  from  the  world  fled ; 

From  out  his  soul  into  his  body  Death  sped. 

Because  he  knew  that  when  the  earthly  frame  goes, 

Eternal,  Everlasting  Being  love  shows, 

He  fervent  longed  to  be  from  fleshly  bonds  free, 

That  then  his  life  in  very  truth  might  Life  see. 

In  sooth,  till  dies  the  body.  Life  is  ne'er  found. 

Nor  with  the  love  of  life  the  Loved  One  e'er  found. 

Sheykhl. 


YAZIJI-OGLU  73 

YAZIJI-OGLU 
The  Creation  of  Paradise 

Hither  come,  O  seeker  after  Truth !  if  joy  thou  wouldest 

share, 
Enter  on  the  Mystic  Pathway,  follow  it,  then  joy  thou'lt  share. 
Hearken   now    what    God    (exalted    high   his    name!)    from 

naught  hath  formed. 
Eden's  bower  he  hath  created ;  Light,  its  lamp,  he  did  prepare ; 
Loftiest  its  sites,  and  best  and  fairest  are  its  blest  abodes ; 
Midst  of  each  a  hall  of  pearls — not  ivory  nor  teak-wood  rare. 
Each  pavilion  he  from  seventy  ruddy  rubies  raised  aloft — 
Dwellings  these  in  which  the  dwellers  sit  secure  from  fear 

or  care. 
Round  within  each  courtyard  seventy  splendid  houses  he  hath 

ranged. 
Formed  of  emeralds  green — houses  these  no  fault  of  form 

that  bear. 
There,  within  each  house,  are  seventy  pearl  and  gem-incrusted 

thrones ; 
He   upon   each   throne   hath   stretched   out   seventy   couches 

broidered  fair; 
Sits  on  every  couch  a  maiden  of  the  bourne  of  loveliness : 
Moons  their  foreheads,  days  their  faces,  each  a  jewelled  crown 

doth  wear; 
Wine  their  rubies,  soft  their  eyes,  their  eyebrows  troublous, 

causing  woe: 
All-enchanting,  Paradise  pays  tribute  to  their  witching  air. 
Sudden  did  they  see  the  faces  of  those  damsels  dark  of  eye. 
Blinded  sun  and  moon  were,  and  Life's  Stream  grew  bitter 

then  and  there. 
Thou  wouldst  deem  that  each  was  formed  of  rubies,  corals, 

and  of  pearls ; 
Question  there  is  none,  for  God  thus  in  the  Qur'an  doth  de- 
clare. 
Tables  seventy,  fraught  with  bounties,  he  in  every  house  hath 

placed. 
And  on  every  tray  hath  spread  out  seventy  sorts  of  varied  fare. 


74  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

All  these  glories,  all  these  honors,  all  these  blessings  of  de- 
light. 

All  these  wondrous  mercies  surely  for  his  sake  he  did  pre- 
pare: 

Through   his   love   unto   Muhammed,   he   the   universe   hath 
framed ; 

Happy,  for  his  sake,  the  naked  and  the  hungry  enter  there. 
O  Thou  Perfectness  of  Potence!  O  Thou  God  of  Awful 

Might ! 
O  Thou  Majesty  of  Glory!  O  Thou  King  of  Perfect  Right! 

Since  he  Eden's  heaven  created,  all  is  there  complete  and 

whole. 
So  that  naught  is  lacking;  nothing  he  created  needs  repair. 
Yonder,  for  his  righteous  servants,  things  so  fair  hath  he 

devised, 
That  no  eye  hath  e'er  beheld  them;  ope  thy  soul's  eye,  on 

them  stare. 
Never  have  his  servants  heard  them,  neither  can  their  hearts 

conceive ; 
Reach    unto    their    comprehension    shall    this    understanding 

ne'er. 
There  that  God  a  station  lofty,  of  the  loftiest,  hath  reared. 
That  unclouded  station  he  the  name  Vesila  caused  to  bear, 
That  to  his  Beloved  yonder  station  a  dear  home  may  be, 
Thence  ordained  is  Heaven's  order  free  from  every  grief  and 

care. 
In  its  courtyard's  riven  centre,  planted  he  the  Tuba-Tree; 
That  a  tree  which  hangeth  downward,  high  aloft  its  roots  are 

there : 
Thus  its  radiance  all  the  Heavens  lighteth  up  from  end  to  end. 
Flooding  every  tent  and  palace,  every  lane  and  every  square. 

Such  a  tree  the  Tuba,  that  the  Gracious  One  hath  in  its  sap 
Hidden  whatsoe'er  there  be  of  gifts  and  presents  good  and 

fair; 
Forth  therefrom  crowns,  thrones,  and  jewels,  yea,  and  steeds 

and  coursers  come. 
Golden  leaves  and  clearest  crystals,  wines  most  pure  beyond 

compare. 


GAZEL  75 

For  his  sake  there  into  being  hath  he  called  the  Tuba-Tree, 
That    from   EbCt-Qasim's    hand    might   everyone    receive   his 
share. 


Yasiji-Oglu. 


RUBÂ'Î 


Cup-bearer,  bring,  bring  here  again  my  yester  even's  wine ; 
My  harp  and  rebec  bring,  them  bid  address  this  heart  of  mine : 
While  still  I  live,  'tis  meet  that  I  should  mirth  and  glee  enjoy ; 
The  day  shall  come  when  none  may  e'en  my  resting-place 
divine. 

Sultan  Murad  II. 

GAZEL 

Souls  are  fluttered  when  the  morning  breezes  through  thy 

tresses  stray ; 
Waving  cypresses  are  wildered  when  thy  motions  they  survey. 
Since  with  witchcraft  thou  hast  whetted  keen  the  lancet  of 

thy  glance, 
All  my  veins  are  bleeding  inward  through  my  longing  and 

dismay. 
"  Why  across  thy  cheek  disordered  float  thy  tresses  ?  "  asked 

I  her. 
"  It  is  Rûm-Eylî ;  there  high-starred  heroes  gallop,"  did  she 

say. 
Thought  I,  though  I  spake  not :  "  In  thy  quarter,  through  thy 

tint  and  scent. 
Wretched  and  head-giddy,  wand'ring,  those  who  hope  hope  not 

for  stray." 
"  Whence  the  anger  in  thy  glances,  O  sweet  love  ?  "  I  said ; 

then  she : 
"  Silence !  surely  if  I  shed  blood,  I  the  ensigns  should  dis- 

play." 
Even  as  thou  sighest,  'Avni,  shower  thine  eyes  tears  fast  as 

rain. 
Like  as  follow  hard  the  thunder-roll  the  floods  in  dread  array. 


76  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


FRAGMENT   OF   GAZEL 

Torn  and  pierced  my  heart  has  been  by  thy  scorn  and  tyranny's 
blade ; 

Rent  by  the  scissors  of  grief  for  thee  is  the  robe  that  my 
patience  arrayed. 

Like  the  mihrâb  of  the  Ka'ba,  as  shrine  where  in  worship  to 
turn. 

Thy  ward  would  an  angel  take,  if  thy  footprint  there  he  sur- 
veyed. 

They  are  pearls,  O  mine  eye!  thou  sheddest  her  day-bright 
face  before ; 

Not  a  tear  is  left — these  all  are  dried  by  the  beams  by  her 
cheek  displayed. 

'Avm. 


GAZEL 

To  obey  Fight  hard  for  Allah  is  my  aim  and  my  desire ; 

'Tis  but  zeal  for  Faith,  for  Islam,  that  my  ardor  doth 
inspire. 

Through  the  grace  of  Allah,  and  th'  assistance  of  the  Band 
Unseen, 

Is  my  earnest  hope  the  Infidels  to  crush  with  ruin  dire. 

On  the  Saints  and  on  the  Prophets  surely  doth  my  trust  re- 
pose; 

Through  the  love  of  God,  to  triumph  and  to  conquest  I 
aspire. 

What  if  I  with  soul  and  gold  strive  here  to  wage  the  Holy 
War? 

Praise  is  God's!  ten  thousand  sighs  for  battle  in  my  breast 
suspire. 

O  Muhammedi  through  the  chosen  Ahmed  Mukhtar's  glori- 
ous aid, 

Hope  I  that  my  might  may  triumph  over  Islam's  foes  ac- 


quire ! 


'Avtit. 


FRAGMENT   OF  GAZEL  77 


GAZEL 

Who  pleasure  seeks  must  oftentimes  experience  sad  pain,  in 

sooth ; 
He  must  a  beggar  be  who  doth  desire  to  win  domain,  in 

sooth. 
Whene'er  I  sigh,  up  rise  my  tears,  they,  boiling,  fast  o'erflow 

my  eyes ; 
Winds  surely  must  full  fiercely  blow,  with  waves  to  fill  the 

main,  in  sooth. 
My  heart's  domain  now  thought  of  thee,  now  grief  for  thee, 

alternate  rule; 
This  realm  to  wreck  and  waste  to  lay  those  two  sublime  Kings 

strain,  in  sooth. 
Spite  zeal  and  prayers,  Truth  sure  is  found  within  the  cup 

that's  filled  with  wine ; 
So  acts  of  rakes  are  free  from  all  hypocrisy's  foul  stain,  in 

sooth. 
O  'Adenî,  rub  thou  thy  face  low  'midst  the  dust  that  lines  her 

path; 
For  eyes  with  blood  filled  stand  in  need  of  tûtyâ,  health  to 

gain,  in  sooth. 

'Adenl. 


FRAGMENT   OF   GAZEL 

When  I  saw  my  love's  hair,  ambergris-hued,  o'er  her  visage 

shake, 
"  Strange,"  I  thought,  "  a  moon,  musk-shedding,  'midst  the 

flowers  its  bed  should  make !  " 
How  thy  locks,  moon-face,  are  fallen  o'er  thy  cheek  in  many 

a  curl! 
As   in   day  he  lies   reposing,   so   in   strength   doth   gain   the 

snake. 
From  thy  cheek  the  rose  and  tulip  tint  and  scent  have  stol'n 

indeed ; 
Therefore  through  the  bazar  round  they  bear  them,  bounden 

to  the  stake. 

'Adem. 


78  OTTOMAN    POEMS 


GAZEL 

Again,  then,  doth  this  apple,  thy  chin,  tooth-marks  wear! 

Again  they've  eaten  peaches  in  thine  orchard  fair ! 

If  strange  hands  have  not  reached  thee,   O   rosebud-Hpped 

one. 
Doth  thy  rose-garden's  pathway  a  foot-step  print  bear! 
I  cannot  reach  thee  before  rivals  all  throng  thee  round: 
Less  for  true  lover  than  vile  dog  dost  thou  care. 
Witness  that  thou  with  my  rivals  the  cup  drain'dst  last  night, 
Bears  the  sleepless  and  worn  look  thy  languid  eyes  wear. 
With  whom  didst  thou  last  even  carouse,  that  this  day 
Morn's  zephyr  about  thee  did  so  much  news  declare? 
Beholding  thy  lips  hurt,  Âfîtâbî  hath  said: 
"  Again,  then,  doth  this  apple,  thy  chin,  tooth-marks  wear !  " 

Aütâbı. 


GAZEL 

Cast  off  thy  veil,  and  heaven  and  earth  in  dazzling  light 

array ! 
As  radiant  Paradise,  this  poor  demented  world  display! 
Move  thou  thy  lips,  make  play  the  ripples  light  of  Kevser's 

pool! 
Let  loose  thy  scented  locks,  and  odors  sweet  through  earth 

convey ! 
A   musky    warrant   by    thy    down    was   traced,    and    zephyr 

charged : 
"  Speed,   with  this   scent   subdue   the   realms   of   China   and 

Cathay !  " 
O   heart!    should   not  thy   portion  be  the   Water  bright   of 

Life, 
A  thousand  times   mayst  thou  pursue   Iskender's   darksome 

way. 
O   Zeyneb,   woman's   love   of   earthly   show   leave   thou   be- 
hind ; 
Go  manly  forth,  with  single  heart,  forsake  adornment  gay! 

Zeyneh. 


FRAGMENT  79 


GAZEL 

Ah  !  thine  eyes  lay  waste  the  heart,  they  'gainst  the  soul  bare 

daggers  dread; 
See  how  sanguinary  gleam  they — blood  aye  upon  blood  they 

shed. 
Come,  the  picture  of  thy  down  bear  unto  this  my  scorched 

breast — 
It  is  customary  fresh  greens  over  the  broiled  flesh  to  spread. 
Said  I :  "  O  Life !  since  thy  lip  is  life,  to  me  vouchsafe  a  kiss." 
Smiling  rose-like,  "  Surely,  surely,  by  my  life,"  she  answered. 
As  I  weep  sore,  of  my  stained  eyebrow  and  my  tears  of  blood, 
"  'Tis  the  rainbow  o'er  the  shower  stretched,"  were  by  all  be- 
holders said. 
While  within  my  heart  thine  eye's  shaft,  send  not  to  my  breast 

despair ; 
Idol  mine !  guest  after  guest  must  not  to  one  same  house  be  led. 
Through  its  grieving  for  thy  hyacinth  down,  thus  feeble  grown 
Is  the  basil,  that  the  gardeners  nightly  o'er  it  water  shed. 
Quoth  I :  "  O  Life !  do  not  shun  Jem,  he  a  pilgrim  here  hath 

come ;  " 
"  Though  a  pilgrim,  yet  his  life  doth  on  a  child's  face  hang," 

she  said. 

Prince  Jem. 

FRAGMENT 

Lo!  there  the  torrent,  dashing  'gainst  the  rocks,  doth  wildly 
roll; 

The  whole  wide  realm  of  Space  and  Being  ruth  hath  on  my 
soul. 

Through  bitterness  of  grief  and  woe  the  morn  hath  rent  its 
robe; 

See!  O  in  dawning's  place,  the  sky  weeps  blood,  without  con- 
trol! 

Tears  shedding,  o'er  the  mountain-tops  the  clouds  of  heaven 
pass ; 

Hear,   deep  the  bursting  thunder  sobs   and   moans  through 
stress  of  dole. 

Prince  Jem. 


8o  OTTOMAN    POEMS 


GAZEL 

He  who  longs  for  ruby  lip's  kiss  may  not  calm  of  soul  re- 
main; 
He  his  head  must  yield  who  hopes  the  dusky  locks'  sweet  scent 

to  gain. 
Still  in  heart  abides  not  longing's  flame  when  one  her  ward 

beholds ; 
Him  who  seeks  her  face  contents  not  even  Heaven's  flowery 

plain. 
Yonder  sugar-lip's  surrounded  by  her  cheek's  down; — where 

art  thou, 
O  thou  seeker  of  the  rose's  company  without  thorn's  pain? 
Wouldest   thou    delight?     Then   plunge    thou    deep    beneath 

Love's  ocean  surge : 
He  who  would  for  regal  pearls  dive,  surely  should  know  well 

the  main. 
Though  the  loved  one  mocks  at  Ahmed's  faults  and  failings, 

what  of  that  ? 
He  who  seeks  a  friend  that's  blameless  must  without  a  friend 

remain. 

Ahmed  Pasha. 


FROM    THE  WINTER    OASIDA 

Locust-like  down  from  the  sky  the  snowflakes  wing  their 
way; 

From  the  green-plumaged  bird,  Delight,  O  heart!  hope  not 
for  lay. 

Like  drunken  camels,  spatter  now  the  clouds  earth's  wind- 
ing sheet ; 

Laded  the  caravan  of  mirth  and  glee,  and  passed  away. 

With  lighted  lamps  in  daytime  seek  the  people  for  the  sun ; 

Yet  scarce,  with  trouble,  a  dim,  fitful  spark  discover  they. 


The  Moon  in  Sign  of  Bounteousness !  the  Shade  of  Allah's 

grace ! 
The  King,  star-armied !  he  in  aspect  fair  as  Hermes'  ray — 


FROM   THE  SPRING   QASIDA  8i 

The   Khân   Muhammed !  at   the   portal   of   whose   sphere   of 

might 
To  wait  as  servants  would  Darius  and  Key-Khusrev  pray! 
E'en  should  the  sun  till  the  Last  Day  it  measure  with  gold 

beam, 
Nor  shore  nor  depth  could  e'er  it  find  to  th'  ocean  of  his 

sway! 

Nejatl. 


FROM    THE   SPRING   QASIDA 

The  early  springtide  now  hath  made  earth   smiling  bright 

again, 
E'en  as  doth  union  with  his  mistress  soothe  the  lover's  pain. 
They  say :     "  'Tis  now  the  goblet's  turn,  the  time  of  mirth  'tis 

now ; " 
Beware   that   to   the   winds   thou    castest    not   this    hour    in 

vain. 
Theriaca  within  their  ruby  pots  the  tulips  lay : 
See  in  the  mead  the  running  streamlet's  glistening,  snake-like 

train. 
Onward,  beneath  some  cypress-tree's  loved  foot  its  face  to 

rub. 
With   turn    and   turn,    and    singing    sweet,    the    brook    goes 

through  the  plain. 
Lord!  may  this  happy  union  of  felicity  and  earth, 
Like  turn  of  sun  of  Love,  or  Jesu's  life,  standfast  remain ! 
May  glee  and  mirth,  e'en  as  desired,  continuous  abide. 
Like    to    a    mighty    Key-Khusrev's,    or    Jemshid's,    glorious 


reign ! 


Sultan  Muhammed !  Murad's  son !  the  Pride  of  Princes  all  ; 
He,    the    Darius,    who    to    all    earth's    Kings    doth    crowns 

ordain ! 
Monarch  of  stars!  whose  flag's  the  sun,  whose  stirrup  is  the 

moon! 
Prince  dread  as  Doom,  and  strong  as  Fate,  and  bounteous  as 

main! 

Nejatl. 


82  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

FROM    THE   QASiDA  ON   THE  ACCESSION   OF 
SULTAN    BÂYEZÎD    H 

One  eve,  when  had  the  Sun  before  her  radiant  beauty  bright 
Let  down  the  veil  of  ambergris,  the  musky  locks  of  night ; 
(Off  had  the  royal  hawk,  the  Sun,  flown  from  the  Orient's 

hand. 
And  lighted  in  the  West;  flocked   after  him  the  crows   in 

flight;) 
To  catch  the  gloomy  raven,  Night,  the   fowler  skilled,   the 

Sphere, 
Had  shaped  the  new-moon  like  the  claw  of  eagle,  sharp  to 

smite ; 
In  pity  at  the  doleful  sight  of  sunset's  crimson  blood. 
Its  veil  across  the  heaven's  eye  had  drawn  the  dusky  Night. 

Sultan  of  Rome!  Khusrev  of  the  Horizons!  Bâyezid! 
King  of  the  Epoch !  Sovereign !  and  Centre  of  all  Right ! 
The  tablet  of  his  heart  doth  all  th'  affairs  of  earth  disclose; 
And  eloquent  as  page  of  book  the  words  he  doth  indite. 
O  Shah!  I'm  he  who,  'midst  th'  assembly  where  thy  praise 

is  sung. 
Will,  rebec-like,  a  thousand  notes  upon  one  cord  recite. 
'Tis  meet  perfection  through  thy  name  to  my  poor  words 

should  come. 
As  to  rose-water  perfume  sweet  is  brought  by  sunbeam's  light. 

Nejati. 

GAZEL 

Truth  this :  a  lasting  home  hath  yielded  ne'er  earth's  spread- 
ing plain ; 

Scarce  e'en  an  inn  where  may  the  caravan  for  rest  remain. 

Though  every  leaf  of  every  tree  is  verily  a  book, 

For  those  who  understanding  lack  doth  earth  no  leaf  contain. 

E'en  though  the  Loved  One  be  from  thee  as  far  as  East  from 
West, 

"  Bagdad  to  lovers  is  not  far,"  O  heart,  then  strive  and  strain. 


FROM   THE  SPRING   QASlDA  83 

One  moment  opened  were  her  ebriate,  strife-causing  eyne, 
By  us  as  scimitars,  not  merely  daggers,  were  they  ta'en. 
Yearneth  Nejâtî  for  the  court  of  thy  fair  Paradise, 
Though  this  a  wish  which  he  while  here  on  earth  can  ne'er 
attain. 

Nejâtî. 

RUBÂ'ÎS 

0  Handkerchief  !  I  send  thee — off  to  yonder  maid  of  grace ; 
Around  thee  I  my  eyelashes  will  make  the  fringe  of  lace ; 

1  will  the  black  point  of  my  eye  rub  up  to  paint  therewith; 
To  yon  coquettish  beauty  go — go  look  thou  in  her  face. 

O  Handkerchief!  the  loved  one's  hand  take,  kiss  her  lip  so 

sweet, 
Her  chin,  which  mocks  at  apple  and  at  orange,  kissing  greet ; 
If  sudden  any  dust  should  light  upon  her  blessed  heart. 
Fall  down  before  her,  kiss  her  sandal's  sole,  beneath  her  feet. 

A  sample  of  my  tears  of  blood  thou.  Handkerchief,  wilt  show. 
Through  these  within  a  moment  would  a  thousand  crimson 

grow; 
Thou'lt  be  in  company  with  her,  while  I  am  sad  with  grief; 
To  me  no  longer  life  may  be,  if  things  continue  so. 

Nejâtî. 

FROM   THE  SPRING   QASIDA 

Up  from  indolent  sleep  the  eyes  of  the  flowers  to  awake. 
Over  their  faces  each  dawn  the  cloudlets   of  spring  water 

shake. 
Denizens  all  of  the  mead  now  with  new  life  are  so  filled, 
That  were  its  foot  not  secured,  into  dancing  the  cypress  would 

break. 
Roses'  fair  cheeks  to  describe,  all  of  their  beauty  to  tell, 
Lines  on  the  clear  river's  page  rain-drops  and  light  ripples 

make. 
Silvery   rings,  thou   would'st   say,  they  hung   in   the   bright 

water's  ear. 


84  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

When  the  fresh  rain-drops  of  spring  fall  on  the  stretch  of 

the  lake. 
Since  the  ring-dove,  who  aloft  sits  on  the  cypress,  its  praise 
Sings,  were  it  strange  if  he  be  sad  and  love-sick  for  its  sake? 

•  ••••••• 

Prince  of  the  Climate  of  Speech,  noble  Nishanji  Pasha, 
To  the  mark  of  whose  kindness  the  shaft  of  thought  can  its 

way  never  make. 
When  poets  into  their  hands  the  chaplet,  thy  verses,  have  ta'en, 
"  I  pardon  implore  of  the  Lord  "  for  litany  ever  they  take. 

Meslhi. 


MUREBBA* 

Hark  the  bulbul's  lay  so  joyous:     "  Now  have  come  the  days 

of  spring." 
Merry  shows  and  crowds  on  every  mead  they  spread,  a  maze 

of  spring; 
There  the  almond-tree  its  silvern  blossoms  scatters,  sprays  of 

spring : 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days 

of  spring. 

Once  again  with  varied  flow'rets  decked  themselves  have  mead 

and  plain ; 
Tents  for  pleasure  have  the  blossoms  raised  in  every  rosy 

lane. 
Who  can  tell,  when  spring  hath  ended,  who  and  what  may 

whole  remain? 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days 

of  spring. 

All   the   alleys    of   the   parterre   filled   with   Ahmed's    Light 

appear. 
Verdant  herbs  his  Comrades,  tulips  like  his  Family  bright 

appear ; 
O  ye  People  of  Muhammed !  times  now  of  delight  appear : 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days 

of  spring. 


MUREBBA'  8s 

Sparkling  dew-drops  stud  the  lily's  leaf  like  sabre  broad  and 

keen; 
Bent  on  merry  gypsy-party,  crowd  they  all  the  flow'ry  green ; 
List  to  me,  if  thou  desirest,  these  beholding,  joy  to  glean: 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days 

of  spring. 

Rose  and  tulip,  like  to  lovely  maidens'  cheeks,  all  beauteous 

show, 
While  the  dew-drops,  like  the  jewels  in  their  ears,  resplendent 

glow; 
Do  not  think,  thyself  beguiling,  things  will  aye  continue  so: 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days 

of  spring. 

Rose,  anemone,  and  tulip — these,  the  garden's  fairest  flow- 
ers— 

'Midst  the  parterre  is  their  blood  shed  'neath  the  lightning- 
darts  and  showers. 

Art  thou  wise? — then  with  thy  comrades  dear  enjoy  the  fleet- 
ing hours : 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days  of 
spring. 

Past  the  moments  when  with  sickness  were  the  ailing  herbs 

opprest. 
When  the  garden's  care,  the  rose-bud,  hid  its  sad  head  in  its 

breast ; 
Come  is  now  the  time  when  hill  and  rock  with  tulips  dense  are 

drest : 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days  of 

spring. 

While  each  dawn  the  clouds  are  shedding  jewels  o'er  the  rosy 

land, 
And  the  breath  of  morning's  zephyr,  fraught  with  Tatar  musk 

is  bland ; 
While  the  world's  fair  time  is  present,  do  not  thou  unheeding 

stand : 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days  of 

spring. 


86  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

With  the  fragrance  of  the  garden,  so  imbued  the  musky  air, 
Every  dew-drop,  ere  it  reaches  earth,  is  turned  to  attar  rare ; 
O'er  the  parterre  spread  the  incense-clouds  a  canopy  right 

fair: 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days  of 

spring. 

Whatsoe'er   the   garden   boasted   smote   the   black   autumnal 

blast ; 
But,  to  each  one  justice  bringing,  back  hath  come  Earth's  King 

at  last ; 
In  his  reign  joyed  the  cup-bearer,  round  the  call  for  wine  is 

past: 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days  of 

spring. 

Ah!  I   fondly   hope,    Mesîhî,    fame   may   to   these   quatrains 

cling ; 
May  the  worthy  these  four-eyebrowed  beauties  oft  to  mem'ry 

bring ; 
Stray  among  the  rosy  faces,  Bulbul,  who  so  sweet  dost  sing: 
Drink,  be  gay,  for  soon  will  vanish,  biding  not,  the  days  of 
spring. 

Meslhl. 

FRAGMENT 

Both  crown  and  robe  forsake  shall  I,  I'll  roam,  by  these  un- 

prest,  a  while ; 
'Midst  foreign  lands,  far  off  from  here,  I'll  dwell  a  wayworn 

guest,  a  while. 
O  minstrel  fair,  both  harp  and  lute's  sweet  music  hushed  must 

now  remain ; 
Woe's  feast  is  spread,  ah !  there  the  flute : — my  sighs  by  grief 

opprest,  a  while. 
Sometimes  I'll  fall,  sometimes  I'll  rise,  sometimes  I'll  laugh, 

sometimes  I'll  weep, 
Blood  drinking  now,  woe  tasting  then,  distracted  sore  I'll  rest, 

a  while. 

HartmJ. 


GAZEL  87 


GAZEL 

Once  from  sleep  I  oped  my  eyes,  I  raised  my  head,  when  full 

in  sight 
There  before  me  stood  a  moon-faced  beauty,  lovely,  shining, 

bright. 
Thought  I :     "In  th'  ascendant's  now  my  star,  or  I  my  fate 

have  reached, 
For  within  my  chamber  sure  is  risen  Jupiter  this  night." 
Radiance  from  his  beauty  streaming  saw  I,  though  to  out- 
ward view 
(While  himself  a  Muslim)  he  in  garb  of  infidel  is  dight. 
Though  I  oped  my  eyes  or  closed  them,  still  the  form  was  ever 

there ; 
Thus  I  fancied  to  myself :     "  A  fairy  this  or  angel  bright  ?  " 
Till  the  Resurrection  ne'er  shall  Mihri  gain  the  Streanf  of 

Life ; 
Yet  in  Night's  deep  gloom  iskender  gleamed  before  her  won- 

d'ring  sight. 

Mihn. 


GAZEL 

Faithful  and  kind  a  friend  I  hoped  that  thou  wouldest  prove 
to  me; 

Who  would  have  thought  so  cruel  and  fierce  a  tyrant  in  thee 
to  see? 

Thou  who  the  newly-oped  rose  art  of  the  Garden  of  Para- 
dise, 

That   every   thorn   and   thistle   thou   lov'st — how    can   it   fit- 
ting be  ? 

I  curse  thee  not,  but  of  God  Most  High,  Our  Lord,  I  make 
this  prayer — 

That  thou  may'st  love  a  pitiless  one  in  tyranny  like  to  thee. 

In  such  a  plight  am  I  now,  alack!  that  the  curser  saith  to  his 
foe: 

**  Be  thy  fortune  dark  and  thy  portion  black,  even  as  those 
of  Mihri !  " 

Mihn. 


88  OTTOMAN  POEMS 


GAZEL 

From  Istâmböl's  throne  a  mighty  host  to  Iran  guided  I ; 
Sunken  deep  in  blood  of  shame  I  made  the  Golden  Heads  to 

He. 
Glad  the  Slave,  my  resolution,  lord  of  Egypt's  realm  became : 
Thus  I  raised  my  royal  banner  e'en  as  the  Nine  Heavens  high. 
From  the  kingdom  fair  of  'Iraq  to  Hijaz  these  tidings  sped, 
When  I  played  the  harp  of  Heavenly  Aid  at  feast  of  victory. 
Through  my  sabre  Transoxania  drowned   was  in  a  sea  of 

blood ; 
Emptied  I  of  kuhl  of  Isfahan  the  adversary's  eye. 
Flowed  adown  a  River  Âmû  from  each  foeman's  every  hair — 
Rolled  the  sweat  of  terror's  fever — if  I  happed  him  to  espy. 
Bishop-mated  was  the  King  of  India  by  my  Queenly  troops, 
When  I  played  the  Chess  of  empire  on  the  Board  of  sov- 

'reignty. 
O  Selimi,  in  thy  name  was  struck  the  coinage  of  the  world, 
When  in  crucible  of  Love  Divine,  like  gold,  that  melted  I. 

Selimi. 


GAZEL 

My  pain  for  thee  balm  in  my  sight  resembles  ; 
Thy  face's  beam  the  clear  moonlight  resembles. 
Thy  black  hair  spread  across  thy  cheeks,  the  roses, 
O  Liege,  the  garden's  basil  quite  resembles. 
Beside  thy  lip  oped  wide  its  mouth,  the  rosebud ; 
For  shame  it  blushed,  it  blood  outright  resembles. 
Thy  mouth,  a  casket  fair  of  pearls  and  rubies, 
Thy  teeth,  pearls,  thy  lip  coral  bright  resembles: 
Their  diver  I,  each  morning  and  each  even; 
My  weeping,  Liege,  the  ocean's  might  resembles. 
Lest  he  seduce  thee,  this  my  dread  and  terror, 
That  rival  who  Iblîs  in  spite  resembles. 
Around  the  taper  bright,  thy  cheek.  Muhibbi 
Turns,  and  the  moth  in  his  sad  plight  resembles. 

Muhibbt. 


GAZEL  89 


GAZEL 

He  who  poverty  electeth,  hall  and  fane  desireth  not; 

Than  the  food  of  woe  aught  other  bread  to  gain  desireth  not. 

He  who,  king-like,  on  the  throne  of  blest  contentment  sits 
aloft, 

O'er  the  Seven  Climes  as  Sultan  high  to  reign  desireth  not. 

He,  who  in  his  bosom  strikes  his  nails,  and  opes  the  wound 
afresh, 

On  the  garden  looks  not,  sight  of  rosy  lane  desireth  not. 

He,  who  is  of  Love's  true  subjects,  bideth  in  the  fair  one's 
ward, 

Wand'ring  there  distracted,  mountain  lone  or  plain  desireth 
not. 

O  Muhibbi,  he  who  drinketh  from  the  Loved  One's  hand  a 
glass. 

E'en  from  Khizar's  hand  Life's  Water  bright  to  drain  de- 
sireth not. 

Muhibbi. 

GAZEL 

A  FLAME  that  Picture's  sabre  in  its  deadliness  of  blow; 

Like  sparks  upon  its  face  the  marks  of  damaskeening  glow. 

Is't  strange  that  by  thy  side  the  bird,  my  heart,  should  rest 
secure  ? 

Thy  sabre  damaskeened  to  it  doth  grain  and  water  show! 

The  watered  scimitar  within  thy  grasp  an  ocean  is. 

In  which  the  lines  and  marks  are  scattered  pearls  unique,  I 
trow. 

Thy  sword  a  sky,  its  stars  the  marks  of  damaskeening  shine. 

My  heart's  blood  there  upon  its  face  like  break  of  dawn  doth 
glow. 

What  though  I  call  that  Picture's  brand  a  branch  of  Judas-tree  ? 

For  there  the  damask  marks  and  grains  like  flowers  and  blos- 
soms blow. 

Figâni's  verse  on  yonder  King  of  Beauty's  empire's  sword 

Doth  like  unto  a  running  stream  of  limpid  water  flow. 

Figâm. 


90  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


ON   AUTUMN 

O  SAD  heart,  come,  distraction's  hour  is  now  high, 

The  air's  cool,  'midst  the  fields  to  sit  the  time  nigh. 

The  Sun  hath  to  the  Balance,  Joseph-like,  past. 

The  year's  Zuleykha  hath  her  gold  hoard  wide  cast. 

By  winds  bronzed,  like  the  Sun,  the  quince's  face  glows; 

Its  Pleiads-clusters,  hanging  forth,  the  vine  shows. 

In  saffron  flow'rets  have  the  meads  themselves  dight; 

The  trees,  all  scorched,  to  gold  have  turned,  and  shine  bright. 

The  gilded  leaves  in  showers  falling  to  earth  gleam; 

With  goldfish  filled  doth  glisten  brightly  each  stream. 

Ablaze  each  tree,  and  blent  are  all  in  one  glare, 

And  therefore  charged  with  glistening  fire  the  still  air. 

Amidst  the  yellow  foliage  perched  the  black  crows — 

As  tulip,  saffron-hued,  that  spotted  cup  shows. 

A  yellow-plumaged  bird  now  every  tree  stands. 

Which  shakes  itself  and  feathers  sheds  on  all  hands. 

Each  vine-leaf  paints  its  face,  bride-like,  with  gold  ink; 

The  brook  doth  silver  anklets  round  the  vine  link. 

The  plane-tree  hath  its  hands,  with  hinna,  red  dyed. 

And  stands  there  of  the  parterre's  court  the  fair  bride. 

The  erst  green  tree  now  like  the  starry  sky  shows, 

And  hurling  meteors  at  the  fiend.  Earth,  stones  throws. 

Lami'l. 


ON    SPRING 

From  the  pleasure,  joy,  and  rapture  of  this  hour, 
In  its  frame  to  hold  its  soul  earth  scarce  hath  power. 
Rent  its  collar,  like  the  dawning,  hath  the  rose; 
From  its  heart  the  nightingale  sighs  forth  its  woes. 
Dance  the  juniper  and  cypress  like  the  sphere; 
Filled  with  melody  through  joy  all  lands  appear. 
Gently  sing  the  running  brooks  in  murmurs  soft; 
While  the  birds  with  tuneful  voices  soar  aloft. 
Play  the  green  and  tender  branches  with  delight. 
And  they  shed  with  one  accord  gold,  silver,  bright. 


I 


ROSE   TIME  91 

Like  to  couriers  fleet,  the  zephyrs  speed  away, 

Resting  ne'er  a  moment  either  night  or  day. 

In  that  raid  the  rosebud  filled  with  gold  its  hoard. 

And  the  tulip  with  fresh  musk  its  casket  stored. 

There  the  moon  a  purse  of  silver  coin  did  seize; 

Filled  with  ambergris  its  skirt  the  morning  breeze; 

Won  the  sun  a  golden  disk  of  ruby  dye. 

And  with  glistening  pearls  its  pocket  filled  the  sky : 

Those  who  poor  were  fruit  and  foliage  attained; 

All  the  people  of  the  land  some  trophy  gained. 

Lâını'î. 

ROSE    TIME 

O  HEART,  come,  wail,  as  nightingale  thy  woes  show; 

'Tis  Pleasure's  moment  this,  come,  then,  as  rose  blow. 

In  burning  notes  make  thou  thy  tuneful  song  rise; 

These  iron  hearts  soft  render  with  thy  sad  sighs. 

Within  thy  soul  place  not,  like  tulip,  dark  brand; 

When  opportunity  doth  come,  then  firm  stand. 

From  earth  take  justice  ere  yet  are  these  times  left. 

And  ere  yet  from  the  soul's  harp  is  breath's  song  reft. 

They  call  thee — view  the  joys  that  sense  would  yield  thee; 

But,  ere  thou  canst  say  "  Hie !  "  the  bird  is  flown,  see. 

Give  ear,  rose-like,  because  in  truth  the  night-bird 

From  break  of  dawn  its  bitter  wail  hath  made  heard. 

Their  chorus  all  around  the  gleeful  birds  raise; 

The  streamlets  sing,  the  nightingale  the  flute  plays. 

The  jasmines  with  their  fresh  leaves  tambourines  ply; 

The  streams,  hard  pressed,  raise  up  their  glistening  foam  high 

Of  junipers  and  cypresses  two  ranks  'tween, 

The  zephyr  sports  and  dances  o'er  the  flower-green. 

The  streamlets  'midst  the  vineyard  hide-and-seek  play 

The  flowerets  with,  among  the  verdant  leaves  gay. 

Away  the  morning's  breeze  the  jasmine's  crown  tears, 

As  pearls  most  costly  scatters  it  the  plucked  hairs. 

The  leader  of  the  play's  the  breeze  of  swift  pace ; 

Like  children,  each  the  other  all  the  flowers  chase. 

With  green  leaves  dressed,  the  trees  each  other's  hands  take; 

The  flowers  and  nightingales  each  other's  robes  shake. 


Ç2  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Like  pigeon,  there,  before  the  gale  that  soft  blows, 

Doth  turn  in  many  a  somersault  the  young  rose. 

As  blaze  up  with  gay  flowerets  all  the  red  plains. 

The  wind  each  passes,  and  the  vineyard  next  gains. 

The  clouds,  pearl-raining,  from  the  meteors  sparks  seize ; 

And  flowers  are  all  around  strewn  by  the  dawn-breeze. 

The  waters,  eddying,  in  circles  bright  play, 

Like  shining  swords  the  green  leaves  toss  about  they. 

With  bated  breath  the  Judas-trees  there  stand  by; 

And  each  for  other  running  brook  and  breeze  sigh. 

The  gales  tag  with  the  basil  play  in  high  glee ; 

To  dance  with  cypress  gives  its  hand  the  plane-tree. 

The  soft  winds  have  adorned  the  wanton  bough  fair. 

The  leader  of  the  frolics  'midst  the  parterre. 

The  narcisse  toward  the  almond-tree  its  glance  throws; 

With  vineyard-love  the  pink  upbraids  the  dog-rose. 

The  water's  mirror  clear  doth  as  the  Sphere  gleam ; 

Its  stars,  the  flowers  reflected,  fair  and  bright  beam. 

The  meads  are  skies;  their  stars,  the  drops  of  dew,  glow; 

The  jasmine  is  the  moon ;  the  stream,  the  halo. 

In  short,  each  spot  as  Resurrection-plane  seems ; 

None  who  beholds  of  everlasting  pain  dreams. 

Those  who  it  view,  and  ponder  well  with  thought's  eye, 

Is't  strange,  if  they  be  mazed  and  wildered  thereby  ? 

Up!  breeze-like,  Lâmi'î,  thy  hermitage  leave! 

The  roses'  days  in  sooth  no  time  for  fasts  give! 

LamiX 


FROM  AN  ELEGY  ON  SULTAN  SELÎM  I 

He,  an  old  man  in  prudence,  a  youth  in  might ; 
His  sword  aye  triumphant,  his  word  ever  right. 
Like  Âsef  in  wisdom,  the  pride  of  his  host; 
He  needed  no  vezir,  no  mushir  in  fight. 
His  hand  was  a  sabre ;  a  dagger,  his  tongue ; 
His  finger,  an  arrow;  his  arm,  a  spear  bright. 
In  shortest  of  time  many  high  deeds  he  wrought ; 
Encircle  the  world  did  the  shade  of  his  might. 
The  Sun  of  his  Day,  but  the  sun  at  day's  close. 
Throwing  long  shadow,  but  brief  while  in  sight. 


FROM   AN   ELEGY   ON    İSKENDER   CHELEBI 

Of  throne  and  of  diadem  sovereigns  boast, 
But  boasted  of  him  throne  and  diadem  bright. 
DeHght  would  his  heart  in  that  festival  find, 
Whither  doth  sabre's  and  fife's  clang  invite. 
In  feats  with  the  sword,  eke  at  feasts  at  the  board, 
On  his  peer  ne'er  alight  did  the  aged  Sphere's  sight: 
Sped  he  to  the  board's  feast — a  Sun  beaming  bright! 
Swept  he  to  the  sword's  field — a  Lion  of  fight! 
Whenever  the  war-cries :  Seize !  Hold !  echo  far, 
The  sword,  weeping  blood,  shall  that  Lion's  fame  cite. 

Alas !  Sultan  Selim !  alas  !  woe  is  me ! 

Let  both  Pen  and  Sabre  in  tears  mourn  for  thee! 

Kemâl  Pasha-Zâda. 


FROM    AN    ELEGY   ON    İSKENDER   CHELEBI 

High  honored  once  was  the  noble  iskender; 
O  heart,  from  his  destiny  warning  obtain. 
Ah!  do  thou  see  what  at  length  hath  befall'n  him! 
What  all  this  glory  and  panoply  gain! 
•Drinking  the  poison  of  doom,  ne'er  a  remnant 
Of  sweetness's  taste  in  his  mouth  did  remain. 
Retrograde,  sank  down  his  star,  erst  ascendant, 
From  perfect  conjunction,  alas,  did  it  wane. 
Dust  on  the  face  of  his  honor  aye  stainless 
Strewn  hath  the  blast  of  betrayal  profane. 
The  Lofty  Decree  for  his  high  exaltation 
Did  Equity's  Court,  all  unlooked  for,  ordain; 
Forthwith  to  the  Regions  of  Eden  they  bore  him. 
They  raised  him  from  earth's  abject  baseness  and  stain. 
Circling  and  soaring,  he  went  on  his  journey, 
From  the  land  of  his  exile  to  Home  back  again. 
Neck-bounden  he  stood  as  a  slave  at  the  palace, 
Freed  is  he  now  from  affliction's  hard  chain. 
Joyous  he  flew  on  his  journey  to  Heaven, 
Rescued  forever  from  earth  gross  and  vain. 
In  life  or  in  death  from  him  never,  ay,  never 
Was  honor  most  lofty,  most  glorious,  ta'en! 

Gasâlî. 


9Z 


94 


OTTOMAN   POEMS 


FRAGMENT 


Come  is  the  autumn  of  my  life,  alas,   it  thus   should  pass 
away! 

I  have  not  reached  the  dawn  of  joy,  to  sorrow's  night  there 
is  no  day. 

Time  after  time  the  image  of  her  cheek  falls  on  my  tear- 
filled  eye ; 

Ah !    no   pretension   to    esteem,  can   shadows    in    the    water 
lay! 

Oh!  whither  will  these  winds  of  Fate  impel  the  frail  barque 
of  the  heart? 

Nor  bound  nor  shore  confining  girds  Time's  dreary  ocean  of 
dismay ! 

Gazali. 


GAZEL 

Dead  am  I  of  grief,  my  Moon  no  love  who  shows,  ah  1  where 

art  thou? 
Reach  the  skies,  the  plaints  and  wails  born  of  my  woes,  ah! 

where  art  thou? 
Save  within  thy  rosy  bower  rests  not  the  nightingale,  the 

heart ; 
Figure  fair  as  waving  cypress,  face  as  rose,  ah!  where  art 

thou? 
Through  thy  lips  the  rose  drops  sugar  at  the  feast  of  heart 

and  soul ; 
Where,  my  Parrot  whose  sweet  voice  doth  love  disclose,  ah! 

where  art  thou? 
Though  with  longing  dead  were  Ishaq,  live  should  he,  did 

once  she  say : 
"  O  my  poor  one,  wildered,  weary,  torn  by  woes,  ah !  where 

art  thou?" 

Ishaq  Chelebi. 


GAZEL  95 

ON   THE    PROPHET    MUHAMMED 

That  thy  form,  O  Beauty  of  his  orchard  who  doth  all  per- 
vade! 

Is  a  cypress,  wrought  of  light,  that  casteth  on  earth's  face 
no  shade. 

Though  the  gazers  on  the  loveliness  of  Joseph  cut  their 
hands, 

Cleft  in  twain  the  fair  moon's  palm,  when  it  thy  day-bright 
face  surveyed. 

To  the  mart  of  the  Hereafter,  when  a  man  hath  passed,  he 
gains 

Through  the  money  bright,  thy  love,  which  is  of  joy  the 
stock-in-trade. 

This,  my  hope,  that  yonder  Cypress  in  the  bowers  of  Paradise 

Shelter  Zâti,  and  all  true  believers,  'neath  his  blissful  shade. 

Zâtt. 
GAZEL 

Through  thine  absence,  smiling  Rosebud,  forth  my  soul  doth 

go,  alas ! 
Earth  is  flooded  by  the  tears  down  from  my  eyes  that  flow, 

alas! 
Should'st  thou  ask  about  my  days,  without  thee  they're  black 

as  thy  hair; 
'Midst  of  darkness,  O  my  Stream  of  Life,  I'm  lying  low, 

alas ! 
With   the   stones   of   slander   stone   me   all   the   cruel    rival 

throng ; 
O  my  Liege,  my  Queen,  'tis  time  now  mercy  thou  should'st 

show,  alas ! 
When  I  die  through  longing  for  thee,  and  thou  passest  o'er 

my  breast. 
From  my  dust  thou'lt  hear  full  many  bitter  sighs  of  woe,  alas ! 
In  his  loved  one's  cause  will  Lutfi  surely  die  the  martyr's 

death ; 
Let  her  brigand  eyes  from  mulct  for  blood  of  mine  free  go, 

alas! 

Lutfi. 


96  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


GAZEL 

If  'tis  state  thou  seekest  like  the  world-adorning  sun's  array, 

Lowly  e'en  as  water  rub  thy  face  in  earth's  dust  every  day. 

Fair  to  see,  but  short  enduring  is  this  picture  bright,  the  world ; 

'Tis  a  proverb :  Fleeting  like  the  realm  of  dreams  is  earth's 
display. 

Through  the  needle  of  its  eyelash  never  hath  the  heart's 
thread  past; 

Like  unto  the  Lord  Messiah  bide  I  half-road  on  the  way. 

Athlete  of  the  Universe  through  self-reliance  grows  the 
Heart, 

With  the  ball,  the  Sphere — Time,  Fortune — like  an  apple  doth 
it  play. 

Mukhlisî,  thy  frame  was  formed  from  but  one  drop,  yet,  won- 
der great! 

When  thou  verses  sing'st,  thy  spirit  like  the  ocean  swells, 

they  say-  Mukhlisl. 

GAZEL 

One    with    Realms    Eternal    this    my    soul    to    make;    what 

wouldest  say? 
All  Creation's  empire's  fancies  to  forsake ;  what  wouldest  say  ? 
Wearing  to  a  hair  my  frame  with  bitter  sighs  and  moans,  in 

love. 
Nestling  in  the  Fair  One's  tresses,  rest  to  take ;  what  wouldest 

say? 
Yonder   gold-faced   birds   within   the   quicksilver-resplendent 

deep: 
Launching  forth  the  hawk,  my  striving,  these  to  take;  what 

wouldest  say? 
Yonder  Nine  Smaragdine  Bowls  of  Heaven  to  quaff  at  one 

deep  draught. 
Yet  from  all  ebriety's  fumes  free  to  break ;  what  wouldest  say  ? 
To  an  autumn  leaf  the  Sphere  hath  turned  Khiyali's  coun- 
tenance ; 
To  the  Spring  of  Beauty,  that  a  gift  to  make ;  what  wouldest 

^^y^  Khiyall. 


GAZEL 


GAZEL 


97 


With  longing  fond  and  vain,  why  should  I  make  my  soul 

to  mourn? 
One  trace  of  love  of  earth  holds  not  my  heart — all  is  forsworn. 
There    ready    stands    the    caravan,    to    Death's    dim    realms 

addrest, 
E'en  now  the  tinkling  of  its  bells  down  on  my  ears  is  borne. 
Come  then,  O  bird,  my  soul,  be  still,  disquiet  leave  far  off; 
See,  how  this  cage,  the  body,  is  with  years  and  suffering  worn. 
But  yet,  to  weary,  wasted,  sin-stained  Shâhî,  what  of  fear? 
Since  Thou'rt  the  God  of  Love,  the  helping  Friend  of  those 

forlorn !  Shahl. 

GAZEL 

O    BREEZE,    thou'rt    kind,    of   balm    to    those    whom    pangs 
affright,  thou  news  hast  brought. 

To  wounded  frame  of  life,  to  life  of  life's  delight  thou  news 
hast  brought. 

Thou'st  seen  the  mourning  nightingale's  despair  in  sorrow's 
autumn  drear. 

Like  springtide  days,  of  smiling  roseleaf  fresh  and  bright, 
thou  news  hast  brought. 

If  I  should  say  thy  words  are  heaven-inspired,  in  truth,  blas- 
pheme I  not ; 

Of  Faith,  whilst  unbelief  doth  earth  hold  fast  and  tight,  thou 
news  hast  brought. 

They  say  the  loved  one  comes  to  soothe  the  hearts  of  all  her 
lovers  true; 

If  that  the  case,  to  yon  fair  maid  of  lovers'  plight  thou  news 
hast  brought. 

Of  rebel  demon  thou  hast  cut  the  hope  Suleyman's  throne  to 
gain; 

That  in  the  sea  secure  doth  lie  his  Ring  of  might,  thou  news 
hast  brought. 

Fuzûlî,  through  the  parting  night,  alas,  how  dark  my  fort- 
une grew! 

Like  zephyr  of  the  dawn,  of  shining  sun's   fair  light  thou 
news  hast  brought.  Fuzûli. 

7 


98  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


GAZEL 

O  THOU  Perfect  Being,  Source  whence  wisdom's  mysteries 

arise ; 
Things,  the  issue  of  thine  essence,  show  wherein  thy  nature 

Hes. 
Manifester  of  all  wisdom,  thou  art  he  whose  pen  of  might 
Hath  with  rays  of  stars  illumined  yonder  gleaming  page,  the 

skies. 
That  a  happy  star,  indeed,  the  essence  clear  of  whose  bright 

self 
Truly  knoweth  how  the  blessings  from  thy  word  that  flow 

to  prize. 
But  a  jewel  flawed  am  faulty  I :  alas,  forever  stands 
Blank  the  page  of  my  heart's  journal  from  thought  of  thy 

writing  wise. 
In  the  journal  of  my  actions  Evil's  lines  are  black  indeed; 
When   I   think   of   Day   of   Gathering's   terrors,   blood   flows 

from  my  eyes. 
Gathering  of  my  tears  will  form  a  torrent  on  the  Reckoning 

Day, 
If  the  pearls,  my  tears,  rejecting,  he  but  view  them  to  de- 
spise : 
Pearls  my  tears  are,  O  Fuzûlî,  from  the  ocean  deep  of  love; 
But  they're  pearls  these,  oh!  most  surely,  that  the  Love  of 

Allah  buys ! 

Fuzûli. 

GAZEL 

Is't  strange  if  beauties'  hearts  turn  blood  through  envy  of 
thy  cheek  most  fair? 

For  that  which  stone  to  ruby  turns  is  but  the  radiant  sun- 
light's glare. 

Or  strange  is't  if  thine  eyelash  conquer  all  the  stony-hearted 
ones? 

For  meet  an  ebon  shaft  like  that  a  barb  of  adamant  should 
bear! 

Thy  cheek's  sun-love  hath  on  the  hard,  hard  hearts  of  fairy 
beauties  fall'n. 


GAZEL  99 

And  many  a  steely-eyed  one  hath  received  thy  bright  reflec- 
tion fair. 

The  casket,  thy  sweet  mouth,  doth  hold  spell-bound  the  Awn- 
faced  ones  all ; 

The  virtue  of  Suleymân's  Ring  was  that  fays  thereto  fealty 
sware. 

Is't  strange  if,  seeing  thee,  they  rub  their  faces  lowly  midst 
the  dust? 

That  down  to  Adam  bowed  the  angel  throng  doth  the  Qur'an 
declare ! 

On  many  and  many  a  heart  of  stone  have  fall'n  the  pangs  of 
love  for  thee! 

A  fire  that  lies  in  stone  concealed  is  thy  heart-burning  love's 
dread  glare! 

Within  her  ward,  with  garments  rent,  on  all  sides  rosy- 
cheeked  ones  stray; 

Fuzûlî,   through   those   radiant  hues,   that   quarter  beams   a 

garden  fair.  „     _,_ 

tuzuh. 

GAZEL 

From  the  turning  of  the  Sphere  my  luck  hath  seen  reverse 

and  woe ; 
Blood  I've  drunk,  for  from  my  banquet  wine  arose  and  forth 

did  go. 
With  the  flame,  my  burning  sighs,  I've  lit  the  wand'ring  wil- 

dered  heart ; 
I'm  a  fire,  doth  not  all  that  which  turns  about  me  roasted 

glow  ?         » 
With  thy  rubies  wine  contended — oh !  how   it  hath  lost  its 

wits! 
Need  'tis  yon  ill-mannered  wretch's  company  that  we  forego. 
Yonder  Moon  saw  not  my  burning's  flame  upon  the  parting 

day — 
How   can   e'er   the   sun   about   the   taper   all   night   burning 

know? 
Every  eye  that  all  around  tears  scatters,  thinking  of  thy  shaft, 
Is  an  oyster-shell  that  causeth  rain-drops  into  pearls  to  grow. 
Forms   my    sighing's    smoke   a   cloud   that   veils   the   bright 

cheek  of  the  moon ; 


lOO  OTTOMAN    POEMS 

Ah !  that  yon  fair  Moon  will  ne'er  the  veil  from  off  her  beauty 

throw ! 
Ne'er  hath  ceased  the  rival  e'en  within  her  ward  to  vex  me 

sore; 
How  say  they,  Fuzûlî,  "  There's  in  Paradise  nor  grief  nor 

woe"? 

Fuzûli. 

MÜSEDDES 

A  STATELY  Cypress  yesterday  her  shade  threw  o'er  my  head ; 
Her    form    was    heart-ensnaring,    heart-delighting    her    light 

tread ; 
When  speaking,  sudden  opened  she  her  smiling  rubies  red, 
There  a  pistachio  I  beheld  that  drops  of  candy  shed. 

"  This   casket   can   it   be   a   mouth  ?    Ah !  deign !  "  I  said ; 

said  she: 
"  Nay,  nay,  'tis  balm  to  cure  thy  hidden  smart ;  aye,  truly 
thine ! " 

Down  o'er  her  crescents  she  had  pressed  the  turban  she  did 
wear. 

By  which,  from  many  broken  hearts,  sighs  raised  she  of  de- 
spair ; 

She  loosed  her  tresses — hid  within  the  cloud  her  moon  so  fair. 

And  o'er  her  visage  I  beheld  the  curls  of  her  black  hair. 
"  Those  curling  locks,  say,  are  they  then  a  chain?"  I  said; 

said  she : 
"  That  round  my  cheek,  a  noose  to  take  thy  heart ;    aye, 
truly  thine !  " 

The  taper  bright,  her  cheek,  illumined  day's  lamp  in  the  sky ; 
The  rose's  branch  was  bent  before  her  figure,  cypress-high; 
She,  cypress-like,  her  foot  set  down  upon  the  fount,  my  eye, 
But  many  a  thorn  did  pierce  her  foot  she  suffered  pain 
thereby. 
"  What  thorn  unto  the  roseleaf-foot  gives  pain  ?  "  I  said ; 

said  she: 
"The    lash    of   thy    wet   eye    doth    it    impart;  aye,    truly 
thine!" 


MÜSEDDES  loı 

Promenading,  to  the  garden  did  that  jasmine-dieeked  one. go; 
With    many   a   bright    adornment    in    the   early    springade's 

glow; 
The  hyacinths  their  musky  locks  did  o'er  the  roses  throw; 
That  Picture  had  tattooed  her  lovely  feet  rose-red  to  show. 
"  The  tulip's  hue  whence  doth  the  dog-rose  gain  ?  "  I  said ; 

said  she : 
"  From  blood  of  thine  shed  'neath  my  glance's  dart ;  aye, 
truly  thine  I  " 

To  earth  within  her  ward  my  tears  in  torrents  rolled  apace; 
The  accents  of  her  ruby  lips  my  soul  crazed  by  their  grace; 
My  heart  was  taken  in  the  snare  her  musky  locks  did  trace, 
That  very  moment  when  my  eyes  fell  on  her  curls  and  face. 
"  Doth  Scorpio  the  bright  Moon's  House  contain  ?  "  I  said ; 

said  she : 
"Fear!  threatening  this  Conjunction  dread,  thy  part;  aye, 
truly  thine !  " 

Her  hair  with  ambergris  perfumed  was  waving  o'er  her  cheek, 
On  many  grieving,  passioned  souls  it  cruel  woe  did  wreak ; 
Her  graceful  form  and  many  charms  my  wildered  heart  made 

weak; 
The  eye  beheld  her  figure  fair,  then  heart  and  soul  did  seek. 
"  Ah !  what  bright  thing  this  cypress  of  the  plain  ?  "  I  said ; 

said  she : 
"  'Tis  that  which  thy  fixed  gaze  beholds  apart ;  aye,  trulv 
thine !  " 

When  their  veil  her  tulip  and  dog-rose  had  let  down  yesterday, 
The  morning  breeze  tore  off  that  screen  which  o'er  these  flow- 

'rets  lay ; 
Came  forth  that  Envy  of  the  sun  in  garden  fair  to  stray, 
Like  lustrous  pearls  the  dew-drops  shone,  a  bright  and  glis- 
tening spray. 
"Pearls,  say,  are  these,  aye  pearls  from  'Aden's  main?"  I 

said ;  said  she : 
"  Tears,   these,   of   poor   Fuzûh,   sad   of   heart ;  aye,   truly 
thine !  " 

Fuzûli. 


I02  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


MUKHAMMES 

Attar   within  vase   of   crystal,   such  thy   fair   form   silken- 
gowned  ; 

And  thy  breast  is  gleaming  water,  where  the  bubbles  clear 
abound ; 

Thou  so  bright  none  who  may  gaze  upon  thee  on  the  earth 
is  found; 

Bold  wert  thou  to  cast  the  veil  off,  standing  forth  with  gar- 
land crowned: 
Not  a  doubt  but  woe  and  ruin  all  the  wide  world  must 
confound ! 

Lures  the  heart  thy  gilded  palace,  points  it  to  thy  lips  the 

way; 
Eagerly  the  ear  doth  listen  for  the  words  thy  rubies  say; 
Near  thy  hair  the  comb  remaineth,  I  despairing  far  away; 
Bites  the  comb,  each  curling  ringlet,  when  it  through  thy 

locks  doth  stray : 
Jealous  at  its  sight,  my  heart's  thread  agonized  goes  curling 

round. 

Ah!  her  face  the  rose,  her  shift  rose-hued,  her  trousers  red 
their  shade ; 

With  its  flame  burns  us  the  fiery  garb  in  which  thou  art 
arrayed. 

Ne'er  was  born  of  Adam's  children  one  like  thee,  O  cruel 
maid ! 

Moon  and  Sun,  in  beauty's  circle,  at  thy  fairness  stand  dis- 
mayed : 
Seems  it  thou  the  Sun  for  mother  and  the  Moon  for  sire 
hast  owned. 

Captive  bound  in  thy  red  fillet,  grieve  I  through  thy  musky 

hair; 
Prone  I  'neath  those  golden  anklets  which  thy  silvern  limbs 

do  wear; 
Think  not  I  am  like  thy  fillet,  empty  of  thy  grace,  O  fair ! 


FROM   LEYLÎ   AND   MEJNUN  103 

Rather  to  the  golden  chain,  which  hangs  thy  cheek  round,  me 
compare : 
In  my  sad  heart  pangs  a  thousand  from  thy  glance's  shafts 
are  found. 

Eyes   with   antimony   darkened,   hands    with   hinna   crimson 

dyed; 
Through  these  beauties  vain  and  wanton  like  to  thee  was 

ne'er  a  bride. 
Bows  of  poplar  green,  thy  painted  brows ;  thy  glances  shafts 

provide. 
Poor  Fuzûlî  for  thine  eyes  and  eyebrows  aye  hath  longing 

cried : 
That  the  bird  from  bow  and  arrow  flees  not,  well  may  all 

astound. 

Fuzûli. 

FROM    LEYLÎ   AND    MEJNÜN 

Yield  not  the  soul  to  pang  of  Love,  for  Love's  the  soul's  fierce 

glow; 
That  Love's  the  torment  of  the  soul  doth  all  the  wide  world 

know. 
Seek  not  for  gain  from  fancy  wild  of  pang  of  Love  at  all ; 
For  all  that  comes  from  fancy  wild  of  Love's  pang  is  grief's 

throe. 
Each  curving  eyebrow  is  a  blood-stained  sabre  thee  to  slay ; 
Each  dusky  curl,  a  deadly  venomed  snake  to  work  thee  woe. 
Lovely,  indeed,  the  forms  of  moon-like  maidens  are  to  see — 
Lovely  to  see,  but  ah!    the  end  doth  bitter  anguish  show. 
From  this  I  know  full  well  that  torment  dire  in  love  abides, 
That  all  who  lovers  are,  engrossed  with  sighs,  rove  to  and 

fro. 
Call  not  to  mind  the  pupils  of  the  black-eyed  damsels  bright, 
With  thought,  "  I'm  man  " ;  be  not  deceived,  'tis  blood  they 

drink,  I  trow. 
E'en    if    Fuzûlî    should    declare,    "  In     fair    ones    there    is 

troth," 
Be  not  deceived — "  A  poet's  words  are  falsehoods  all   men 

know." 

Fuzûlî. 


I04  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

MEJNÜN   ADDRESSES    NEVFIL 

Quoth  Mejnûn:  "  O  sole  friend  of  true  plight! 

With  counsel  many  have  tried  me  to  guide  right ; 

Many  with  wisdom  gifted  have  advice  shown, 

But  yet  this  fiend  hath  been  by  no  one  o'erthrown ; 

Much  gold  has  on  the  earth  been  strewn  round, 

But  yet  this  Stone  of  Alchemist  by  none's  found. 

Collyrium  I  know  that  doth  increase  light. 

What  use  though  is  it  if  the  eye  doth  lack  sight? 

I  know  that  greatest  kindliness  in  thee  lies, 

What  use,  though,  when  my  fate  doth  ever  dark  rise? 

Upon  my  gloomy  fortune  I  no  faith  lay. 

Impossible  my  hope  appeareth  alway. 

Ah!  though  in  this  thou  shouldest  ever  hard  toil, 

The  end  at  length  will  surely  all  thy  plans  foil. 

No  kindliness  to  me  my  closest  friends  show ; 

Who  is  a  friend  to  him  whom  he  doth  deem  foe? 

I  know  my  fortune  evil  is  and  woe-fraught; 

The  search  for  solace  is  to  me,  save  pain,  naught. 

There  is  a  gazel  that  doth  well  my  lot  show. 

Which  constant  I  repeat  where'er  my  steps  go." 

Fuzûli. 


MEJNÜN'S    GAZEL 

From  whomsoe'er  I've  sought  for  troth  but  bitterest  disdain 

I've  seen ; 
Whome'er  within  this  faithless  world  I've  trusted,  all  most 

vain  I've  seen. 
To  whomsoe'er  I've  told  my  woes,  in  hope  to  find  some  balm 

therefor, 
Than  e'en  myself  o'erwhelmed  and  sunk  in  deeper,  sadder 

pain  I've  seen. 
From  out  mine  aching  heart  no  one  hath  driven  cruel  grief 

away, 
That  those  my  friends  of  pleasure's  hour  affection  did  but 

feign  I've  seen. 


I 


I 


ZEYD'S   VISION 


105 


Although  I've  clutched  its  mantle,  life  hath  turned  away  its 

face  from  me ; 
And   though   I    faith    from   mirror   hoped,   there   persecuted 

swain  I've  seen. 
At  gate  of  hope  I  set  my  foot,  bewilderment  held  forth  its 

hand, 
Alas!  whene'er  hope's  thread  I've  seized,   in  hand  the  ser- 
pent's train  I've  seen. 
A  hundred  times  the  Sphere  hath  shown  to  me  my  darksome 

fortune's  star ; 
Whene'er  my  horoscope  I've  cast,  but  blackest,  deepest  stain 

I've  seen. 
Fuzûlî,  blush  not  then,  should  I  from  mankind  turn  my  face 

away; 
For  why?     From  all  to  whom  I've  looked,  but  reason  sad 

too  plain  I've  seen. 

Fuzûli. 


ZEYD'S   VISION 

His  grief  and  mourning  Zeyd  renewed  alway, 

From  bitter  wailing  ceased  he  not,  he  wept  aye. 

That  faithful,  loving,  ever-constant  friend  dear, 

One  night,  when  was  the  rise  of  the  True  Dawn  near, 

Feeling  that  in  his  wasted  frame  no  strength  stayed, 

Had  gone,  and  down  upon  that  grave  himself  laid. 

There,  in  his  sleep,  he  saw  a  wondrous  fair  sight, 

A  lovely  garden,  and  two  beauties,  moon-bright ; 

Through  transport  rapturous,  their  cheeks  with  light  glow ; 

Far  distant  now,  all  fear  of  anguish,  pain,  woe; 

With  happiness  and  ecstasy  and  joy  blest, 

From  rivals'  persecutions  these  have  found  rest; 

A  thousand  angel-forms  to  each  fair  beauty, 

With  single  heart,  perform  the  servant's  duty. 

He,   wondering,   question   made :     "  What    Moons    so   bright 

these  ? 
What  lofty,  honored  Sovereigns  of  might  these? 
What  garden,  most  exalted,  is  this  parterre? 
What  throng  so  bright  and  beautiful,  the  throng  there  ?  " 


io6  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

They  answer  gave :  "  Lo !  Eden's  shining  bowers  these ; 

That  radiant  throng,  the  Heaven-born  Youths  and  Hûrîs; 

These  two  resplendent  forms,  bright  as  the  fair  moon, 

These  are  the  ever-faithful — Leylî,  Me j nün! 

Since  pure  within  the  vale  of  love  they  sojourned, 

And  kept  that  purity  till  they  to  dust  turned. 

Are  Eden's  everlasting  bowers  their  home  now, 

To  them  the  Hûrîs  and  the  Youths  as  slaves  bow : 

Since  these,  while  on  the  earth,  all  woe  resigned  met. 

And  patience  aye  before  them  in  each  grief  set, 

When  forth  they  fled  from  this  false,  faithless  world's  bound, 

From  all  those  pangs  and  sorrows  they  release  found !  " 

Fusüll. 


GAZEL 

I  BEGAN  love's  art  to  study,  divers  chapters  did  I  read; 
Longing's  texts  and  parting's  sections  a  whole  book  would 

fill  indeed ; 
Union  formed  a  short  abridgment,  but  the  pangs  of  love  for 

thee 
Have  their  commentaries  endless  made  each  other  to  succeed. 
O  Nishânî,  hath  the  master.  Love,  thus  truly  taught  to  thee: 
"  This  a  question  hard  whose   answer   from  the   loved   one 

must  proceed ! " 

Nishüm. 

GAZEL 

Hand  in  hand  thy  mole  hath  plotted  with  thy  hair. 

Many  hearts  made  captive  have  they  in  their  snare. 

Thou  in  nature  art  an  angel  whom  the  Lord 

In  his  might  the  human  form  hath  caused  to  wear. 

When  he  dealt  out  'mongst  his  creatures  union's  tray, 

Absence  from  thee,  God  to  me  gave  as  my  share. 

Thou  would'st  deem  that  Power,  the  limner,  for  thy  brows, 

O'er  the  lights,  thine  eyes,  two  nuns  had  painted  fair. 

O  Selîmî,  on  the  sweetheart's  cheek  the  down 

Is  thy  sighs'  fume,  which,  alas,  hath  rested  there. 

Selîmî. 


^ 


GAZEL  107 


GAZEL 


Ta'en  my  sense  and  soul  have  those  thy  Leylî  locks,  thy 

glance's  spell, 
Me,  their  Mejnfin,  'midst  of  love's  wild  dreary  desert  they 

impel. 
Since  mine  eyes  have  seen  the  beauty  of  the  Joseph  of  thy 

grace. 
Sense  and  heart  have  fall'n  and  lingered  in  thy  chin's  sweet 

dimple-well. 
Heart  and  soul  of  mine  are  broken  through  my  passion  for 

thy  lips ; 
From  the  hand  of  patience  struck  they  honor's  glass,  to  earth 

it  fell. 
The  mirage,  thy  lips,  O  sweetheart,  that  doth  like  to  water 

show ; 
For,  through  longing,   making  thirsty,  vainly  they  my  life 

dispel. 
Since  Selimi  hath  the  pearls,  thy  teeth,  been  praising,  sense 

and  heart 
Have  his  head  and  soul  abandoned,  plunging  'neath   love's 

ocean-swell.  Selimi. 

GAZEL 

Thy  veil  raise,  shake  from  cheeks  those  locks  of  thine  then ; 

Unclouded  beauty's  sun  and  moon  bid  shine  then. 

But  one  glance  from  those  soft  and  drooping  eyes  throw, 

The  heart  through  joy  to  drunkenness  consign  then. 

Were  I  thy  lip  to  suck,  'twould  heal  the  sick  heart; 

Be  kind,  an  answer  give,  Physician  mine,  then. 

Beware  lest  evil  glance  thy  beauty's  rose  smite, 

From  ill-eyed  rival  careful  it  confine  then. 

O  heart,  this  is  Life's  Water  'midst  of  darkness, 

In  night's  gloom  hidden,  drink  the  ruby  wine  then. 

My  love's  down  grows  upon  her  rosy-hued  cheek, 

A  book  write  on  the  woes  it  doth  enshrine  then. 

Thy  wine-hued  lip,  O  love,  grant  to  Selimi — 

And  by  thy  parting's  shaft  my  tears  make  wine  then. 

SelhnJ. 


io8  OTTOMAN    POEMS 


GAZEL 


The  rival  entry  free  hath  to  the  loved  one's  ward,  but  none 

have  I ; 
Regard   unto   the   very    dogs    they   there    accord,    but    none 

have  I. 
The  heart  doth  seize  the  Magian's  hand ;  the  cup-bearer,  his 

glass ;  but  I — 
For  gentle  love  they  grant  to  these  their  due  reward,  but 

none  have  I. 
To  gain  regard  I  would  complain  loud  as  the  dogs  within 

thy  ward, 
For  these  have  power  their  plight  to  show,  their  griefs  re- 
cord, but  none  have  I. 
From  all  eternity  have  I  to  Me j nun  taught  the  pang  of  love. 
How  then  do  all  the  folk  to  him  renown  award,  but  none 

have  I? 
To  God  be  praise  that  brightly  shines  the  mirror  of  my  heart, 

Shemsi, 
For  more  or  less  earth's  glass  with  dust  is  soiled  or  marred, 

but  none  have  I. 

Shemsi  Pacha. 


FROM    THE   "KING   AND    BEGGAR" 

Parrot,  sweet  of  voice,  thy  song  now  raise! 
All  thy  words  purify  in  Love's  fierce  blaze! 
Every  point  of  Love  as  whole  book  shows; 
Every  mote  of  Love  as  bright  sun  glows. 
Drowned  in  one  drop  thereof  Time,  Space,  in  sooth ; 
Lost  in  one  grain  thereof  Both  Worlds,  in  truth. 
Man  becomes  man  through  Love,  pure,  bright. 
Teacher  respected,  guide  of  the  right. 
Through  its  beams  everything  man  as  chief  owns, 
Rays  of  sun  into  rubies  turn  black  stones. 


He  who  a  Lover  is  on  God  relies ; 
On,  on,  upward  still  doth  he  rise. 


QAfSDA  109 

One  day  he  secrets  all  shall  descry, 
Love  makes  the  soul  from  sleep  raise  the  eye; 
Unto  him  all  things  shall  oped  be  and  shown, 
Off  e'en  the  curtain  from  God  shall  be  thrown. 

Yahya  Beg. 

GAZEL 

Yea,  on  God's  favor  all  my  trust  I  place; 

Ah !  how  my  soul  desireth  his  dear  grace ! 

Since  with  the  Lord  I  have  my  heart  made  right, 

All  of  my  hope  upon  his  aid  I  base. 

I  upon  troops  and  treasures  no  faith  lay; 

Nay,  to  the  Hosts  Unseen  I  leave  my  case. 

Bravely  strive  on,  the  Holy  Warfare  fight; 

Firm,  in  God's  cause  to  war,  I've  set  my  face. 

By  him,  I  trust,  received  my  prayer  may  be; 

For,  on  acceptance  I  my  whole  hope  place. 

Muradı. 

QAISDA 

One  night  when  all  the  battlements  Heaven's  castle  doth  dis- 
play, 

Illumed  and  decked  were,  with  the  shining  lamps,  the  stars' 
array, 

Amidst  the  host  of  gleaming  stars  the  Moon  lit  up  his 
torch ; 

Athwart  the  field  of  Heaven  with  radiance  beamed  the  Milky 
Way. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Spheres  had  ta'en  his  meteor-pen, 

That  writer  of  his  signature  whom  men  and  jinns  obey. 

There,  at  the  banquet  of  the  sky,  had  Venus  struck  her  lyre, 

In  mirth  and  happiness,  delighted,  joyed  and  smiling  gay. 

Taking  the  keynote  for  her  tune  'neath  in  the  vaulted  sphere, 

The  tambourinist  Sun  her  visage  bright  had  hid  away. 

Armed  with  a  brand  of  gleaming  gold  had  leapt  into  the 
plain 

The  Swordsman  of  the  sky's  expanse,  of  heaven's  field  of 
fray. 


no  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

To  give  direction  to  the  weighty  matters  of  the  earth 

Had  Jupiter,  the  wise,  lit  up  reflection's  taper's  ray. 

There  raised  aloft  old  Saturn  high  upon  the  Seventh  Sphere 

Sitting  like  Indian  elephant-conductor  on  did  stray. 

"  What  means  this  decking  of  the  universe  ?  "  I  wond'ring 

said; 
When,  lo !  with  meditation's  gaze  e'en  whilst  I  it  survey, 
Casting  its  beams  on  every  side,  o'er  all  earth  rose  the  Sun, 
O'er  the  horizons,  e'en  as  Seal  of  Suleymân's  display. 
The  eye  of  understanding  looked  upon  this  wondrous  sight ; 
At  length  the  soul's  ear  learned  the  secret  hid  in  this  which 

lay: 
What  is  it  that  hath  decked  earth's  hall  with  splendors  such 

as  this. 
Saving  the  might  and  fortune  of  the  King  who  earth  doth 

sway? 
He  who  sits  high  upon  the  throne  above  all  crowned  kings, 
The  Hero  of  the  battlefield  of  dread  Keyânî  fray, 
Jemshîd  of  happiness  and  joy,  Darius  of  the  fight, 
Khusrev  of  right  and  clemency,  iskender  of  his  day! 

Lord  of  the  East  and  West!     King  whom  the  kings  of  earth 

obey! 
Prince  of  the  Epoch !     Sultan  Süleyman !     Triumphant  Aye ! 

Meet  'tis  before  the  steed  of  yonder  Monarch  of  the  realms 

Of  right  and  equity,  should  march  earth's  rulers'  bright  array. 

Rebelled  one  'gainst  his  word,  secure  he'd  bind  him  in  his 
bonds, 

E'en  like  the  dappled  pard,  the  sky,  chained  with  the  Milky 
Way. 

Lord  of  the  land  of  graciousness  and  bounty,  on  whose  board 

Of  favors,  spread  is  all  the  wealth  that  sea  and  mine  display; 

Longs  the  perfumer.  Early  Spring,  for  th'  odor  of  his  grace; 

Need  hath  the  merchant.  Autumn,  of  his  bounteous  hand 
alway. 

Through  tyrant's  hard  oppression  no  one  groaneth  in  his 
reign. 

And  though  may  wail  the  flute  and  lute,  the  law  they  dis- 
obey. 


QAlSDA  III 

Beside  thy  justice,  tyranny's  the  code  of  Key-Qubad ; 
Beside  thy  wrath,  but  mildness  Qahraman's  most  deadly  fray. 
Thy  scimitar's  the  gleaming  guide  empires  to  overthrow, 
No  foe  of  Islam  can  abide  before  thy  sabre's  ray. 
Saw  it  thy  wrath,  through  dread  of  thee  would  trembling 

seize  the  pine; 
The  falling  stars  a  chain  around  the  heaven's  neck  would  lay. 
Amidst  thy  sea-like  armies  vast,  thy  flags  and  standards  fair, 
The  sails  are  which  the  ship  of  splendid  triumph  doth  display. 
Thrust  it  its  beak  into  the  Sphere,  'twould  seize  it  as  a  grain, 
The  'anqa  strong,  thy  power,  to  which  'twere  but  a  seed-like 

prey. 
In  past  eternity  the  hand,  thy  might,  it  struck  with  bat, 
That  time  is  this  time,  for  the  Sky's  Ball  spins  upon  its  way. 
Within  the  rosy  garden  of  thy  praise  the  bird,  the  heart, 
Singeth  this  soul-bestowing,  smooth-as-water-running  lay. 

If  yonder  mouth  be  not  the  soul,  O  heart-enslaver  gay. 
Then  wherefore  is  it  like  the  soul,  hid  from  our  eyes  away? 
Since  in  the  casket  of  our  mind  thy  ruby's  picture  lies. 
The  mine  is  now  no  fitting  home  for  gem  of  lustrous  ray. 
Thy  tresses  fall  across  thy  cheeK  in  many  a  twisting  curl, 
"  To  dance  to  Hijâz  have  the  Shâmîs  tucked  their  skirts," 

we'd  say. 
Let  both  the  youthful  pine  and  cypress  view  thy  motions  fair ; 
The  gardener  now  to  rear  the  willow  need  no  more  assay. 
The  dark  and  cloudy  brained  of  men  thine  eyebrows  black 

depict. 
While  those  of  keen,  discerning  wit  thy  glistening  teeth  por- 
tray. 
Before  thy  cheek  the  rose  and  jasmine  bowed  in  sujüd, 
The  cypress  to  thy  figure  in  qiyam  did  homage  pay. 
The  heart's  throne  is  the  seat  of  that  great  monarch,  love  for 

thee; 
The  soul,  the  secret  court,  where  doth  thy  ruby's  picture  stay. 
The  radiance  of  thy  beauty  bright  hath  filled  earth  like  the  sun, 
The  hall,  "  BE !  and  it  is,"  resounds  with  love  of  thee  for  aye. 
The  cries  of  those  on  plain  of  earth  have  risen  to  the  skies, 
The  shouts  of  those  who  dwell  above  have  found  to  earth 
their  way. 


IZ2 


OTTOMAN    POEMS 


Nor  can  the  nightingale  with  songs  as  sweet  as  Baqi's  sing, 
Nor  happy  as  thy  star  can  beam  the  garden's  bright  array. 
The  mead,  the  world,  blooms  through  thy  beauty's  rose,  like 

Irem's  bower ; 
On  every  side  are  nightingales  of  sweet,  melodious  lay. 
Now  let  us  pray  at  Allah's  court :     "  May  this  for  aye  en- 
dure, 
The  might  and  glory  of  this  prospered  King's  resplendent 

sway; 
Until  the  lamp,  the  world-illuming  sun,  at  break  of  dawn, 
A  silver  candelabrum  on  the  circling  skies  display, 
Oh!  may  the  Ruler  of  the  world  with  skirt  of  aid  and  grace 
Protect  the  taper  of  his  life  from  blast  of  doom,  we  pray !  " 
Glory's  the  comrade ;  Fortune,  the  cup-bearer  at  our  feast ; 
The  beaker  is  the  Sphere;  the  bowl,  the  Steel  of  gold-inlay! 

Baqt. 

GAZEL 

'Tıs  love's  wild  sea,  my  sighs'  fierce  wind  doth  lash  those 

waves  my  tears  uprear ; 
My  head,  the  barque  of  sad  despite;  mine  eyebrows  twain, 

the  anchors  here. 
Mine  unkempt  hair,  the  den  of  yonder  tiger  dread,  the  fair 

one's  love; 
My  head,   dismay   and   sorrow's   realm's   deserted   mountain 

region  drear. 
At  whatsoever  feast  I  drain  the  cup  thy  rubies'  mem'ry  to. 
Amidst  all  those  who  grace  that  feast,  except  the  dregs,  I've 

no  friend  near. 
Thou  know'st,  O  Light  of  my  poor  eyes,  with  tütyâ  mixed 

are  gems  full  bright, 
What  then  if  weep  on  thy  path's  dust  mine  eyes  that  scatter 

pearls  most  clear! 
The  Sphere,  old  hag,  with  witchcraft's  spell  hath  parted  me 

from  my  fond  love, 

O  Bâqî,  see,  by  God,  how  vile  a  trick  yon  jade  hath  played 

me  here! 

Baql. 


GAZEL  113 


GAZEL 

Years  trodden  under  foot  have  I  lain  on  that  path  of  thine; 
Thy   musky    locks   are   noose-like   cast,    around   my    feet   to 

twine. 
O   Princess   mine !    boast   not   thyself  through   loveliness   of 

face, 
For  that,  alas,  is  but  a  sun  which  must  full  soon  decline! 
The  loved  one's  stature  tall,  her  form  as  fair  as  juniper, 
Bright  'midst  the  rosy  bowers  of  grace  a  slender  tree  doth 

shine. 
Her  figure,  fair-proportioned  as  my  poesy  sublime. 
Her  slender  waist  is  like  its  subtle  thought — hard  to  divine. 
Then   yearn   not,    Baqi,    for   the    load   of    love's   misfortune 

dire; 
For  that  to  bear  mayhap  thy  soul  no  power  doth  enshrine. 

Baqt. 


GAZEL 

With  her  graceful-moving  form,  a  Cypress  jasmine-faced  is 

she? 
Or  in  Eden's  bower  a  branch  upon  the  Lote  or  Tuba-tree? 
That  thy  blood-stained  shaft  which  rankles  in  my  wounded 

breast,  my  love, 
In  the  rosebud  hid  a  lovely  rose-leaf,  sweetheart,  can  it  be? 
To  the  dead  of  pain  of  anguish  doth  its  draught  fresh  life 

impart ; 
O  cup-bearer,  is  the  red  wine  Jesu's  breath?  tell,  tell  to  me! 
Are  they  teeth  those  in  thy  mouth,  or  on  the  rosebud  drops 

of  dew  ? 
Are  they  sparkling  stars,  or  are  they  gleaming  pearls,  that 

there  I  see? 
Through  the  many  woes  thou  wreakest  upon  Baql,  sick  of 

heart, 
Is't  thy  will  to  slay  him,  or  is  it  but  sweet  disdain  in  thee? 

Baql. 
8 


114  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

GAZEL 

Before  thy  form,  the  box-tree's  Hssom  figure  dwarfed  would 
show ; 

Those   locks  of  thine  the  pride   of  ambergris   would   over- 
throw. 

Who,    seeing    thy    cheek's    glow,    recalls    the    ruby    is    de- 
ceived ; 

He  who  hath  drunken  deep  of  wine  inebriate  doth  grow. 

Should    she    move    forth    with    figure    like    the    juniper    in 
grace, 

The  garden's  cypress  to  the  loved  one's  form  must  bend  right 
low. 

Beware,  give  not  the  mirror  bright  to  yonder  paynim  maid. 

Lest  she  idolater  become,  when  there  her  face  doth  show. 

Baqi,  doth  he  not  drink  the  wine  of  obligation's  grape, 

Who    drunken    with    A-lestu's    cup's    o'erwhelming    draught 
doth  go? 

Baqi. 


GAZEL 

Thy  cheek,  like  limpid  water,  clear  doth  gleam; 
Thy  pouting  mouth  a  bubble  round  doth  seem. 
The  radiance  of  thy  cheek's  sun  on  the  heart 
Like  moonlight  on  the  water's  face  doth  beam. 
The  heart's  page,  through  the  tracings  of  thy  down, 
A  volume  all  illumined  one  would  deem. 
That  fair  Moon's  sunny  love  the  earth  have  burned, 
It  warm  as  rays  of  summer  sun  doth  stream. 
At  woful  sorrow's  feast  my  blood-shot  eyes, 
Two  beakers  of  red  wine  would  one  esteem. 
Baqi,  her  mole  dark-hued  like  ambergris, 
A  fragrant  musk-pod  all  the  world  would  deem, 

Baqt. 


ON   AUTUMN  115 

GAZEL 

All  sick  the  heart  with  love  for  her,  sad  at  the  feast  of  woe ; 
Bent  form,  the  harp ;  low  wail,  the  flute ;  heart's  blood  for 

wine  doth  flow. 
Prone  lies  the  frame  her  path's  dust  'neath,  in  union's  stream 

the  eye. 
In  air  the  mind,  the  soul  'midst  separation's  fiery  glow. 
Oh,  ever  shall  it  be  my  lot,  zone-like,  thy  waist  to  clasp ! 
'Twixt  us,  O  love,  the  dagger  blade  of  severance  doth  show! 
Thou   art  the   Queen   of   earth,   thy   cheeks   are   Towers   of 

might,  this  day, 
Before    thy    Horse,    like    Pawns,    the    Kings    of    grace    and 

beauty  go. 
Him  hinder  not,  beside  thee  let  him  creep,  O  Shade-like  stay ! 
Bâqî,  thy  servant,  O  my  Queen,  before  thee  lieth  low. 

Baql. 

ON    AUTUMN 

Lo,  ne'er  a  trace  or  sign  of  springtide's  beauty  doth  remain; 
Fall'n  'midst  the  garden  lie  the  leaves,  now  all  their  glory 

vain. 
Bleak  stand  the  orchard  trees,  all  clad  in  tattered  dervish 

rags; 
Dark  Autumn's  blast  hath  torn  away  the  hands  from  off  the 

plane. 
From  each  hill-side  they  come  and  cast  their  gold  low  at  the 

feet 
Of  garden  trees,  as  hoped  the  streams  from  these  some  boon 

to  gain. 
Stay  not  within  the  parterre,  let  it  tremble  with  its  shame: 
Bare   every   shrub,   this   day   doth   naught   or    leaf   or    fruit 

retain. 
Baql,  within  the  garden  lies  full  many  a  fallen  leaf; 
Low  lying  there,  it  seems  they  'gainst  the  winds  of  Fate  com- 
plain. 

Baqi. 


xi6  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


GAZEL 

Tulip-cheeked    ones    over    rosy    field    and    plain    stray    all 

around ; 
Mead  and  garden  cross  they,  looking  wistful  each  way,  all 

around. 
These  the  lovers  true  of  radiant  faces,  aye,  but  who  the  fair? 
Lissom  Cypress,  thou  it  is  whom  eager  seek  they  all  around. 
Band  on  band  Woe's  legions  camped  before  the  City  of  the 

Heart, 
There,  together  leagued,  sat  Sorrow,  Pain,   Strife,  Dismay, 

all  around. 
From  my  weeping  flows  the  river  of  my  tears  on  every  side. 
Like  an  ocean  'tis  again,  a  sea  that  casts  spray  all  around*. 
Forth   through  all   the   Seven   Climates   have   the   words   of 

Baqi  gone ; 
This  refulgent  verse  recited  shall  be  alway,  all  around. 

Baql. 

GAZEL 

From  thine  own  beauty's  radiant  sun  doth  light  flow ; 
How  lustrously  doth  now  the  crystal  glass  show ! 
Thy  friend's  the  beaker,  and  the  cup's  thy  comrade ; 
Like  to  the  dregs  why  dost  thou  me  aside  throw? 
Hearts  longing  for  thy  beauty  can  resist  not ; 
Hold,  none  can  bear  the  dazzling  vision's  bright  glow ! 
United  now  the  lover,  and  now  parted ; 
This  world  is  sometimes  pleasure  and  sometimes  woe. 
Bound  in  the  spell  of  thy  locks'  chain  is  Baqi, 
Mad  he,  my  Liege,  and  to  the  mad  they  grace  show. 

Baqi. 

GAZEL 

The   goblet   as   affliction's   Khusrev's   bright    Keyânî   crown 

doth  shine ; 
And  surely  doth  the  wine-jar  love's  King's  Khusrevânî  hoard 

enshrine. 
Whene'er  the  feast  recalls  Jemshîd,  down  from  its  eyes  the 

red  blood  rolls ; 


GAZEL 


117 


The  rosy-tinted  wine  its  tears,  the  beakers  its  blood-weeping 

eyne. 
At  parting's  banquet  should  the  cup,  the  heart,  with  blood 

brim  o'er  were't  strange? 
A  bowl  that,  to  the  fair  we'll  drain,  a  goblet  filled  full  high 

with  wine. 
O  Moon,  if  by  thy  door  one  day  the  foe  should  sudden  me 

o'ertake — 
A  woe  by  Heaven  decreed,  a  fate  to  which  I  must  myself 

resign ! 
The  fume  of  beauty's  and  of  grace's  censer  is  thy  cheek's 

sweet  mole, 
The  smoke  thereof  thy  musky  locks  that  spreading  fragrant 

curl  and  twine ; 
Thy  cheek  rose-hued  doth  light  its  taper  at  the  moon  that 

shines  most  bright. 
Its  candlestick  at  grace's  feast  is  yonder  collar  fair  of  thine. 
Of  love  and  passion  is  the  lustrous  sheen  of  Baqi's  verse  the 

cause ; 
As  Life's  Stream  brightly  this  doth  shine ;  but  that,  th'  Eter- 
nal Life  Divine.  Baql. 

GAZEL 

When  the  sheets  have  yonder  Torment  to  their  bosom  ta'en 

to  rest. 
Think    I,    "  Hides    the    night-adorning    Moon    within    the 

cloudlet's  breast." 
In  the  dawning,  O  thou  turtle,  mourn  not  with  those  sense- 
less plaints ; 
In  the  bosom  of  some  stately  cypress  thou'rt  a  nightly  guest. 
Why  thou  weepest  from  the  heavens,  never  can  I  think,  O 

dew; 
Every  night  some  lovely  rose's  bosom  fair  thou  enterest. 
Hath  the   pearl   seen   in  the  story   of  thy  teeth   its   tale   of 

shame, 
Since  the  sea  hath  hid  the  album  of  the  shell  within  its  breast  ? 
Longing  for  thy  cheeks,  hath  Baqi  all  his  bosom  marked  with 

scars. 
Like  as  though  he'd  cast  of  rose-leaves  fresh  a  handful  o'er 

his  chest.  Baqi. 


ii8  OTTOMAN    POEMS 


ELEGY   ON    SULTAN    SÜLEYMAN    I 

O   THOU !  foot-bounden   in   the   mesh   of    fame   and   glory's 
snare ! 

Till  when  shall  last  the  lust  of  faithless  earth's  pursuits  and 
care? 

At  that  first  moment,  which  of  life's  fair  springtide  is  the 
last, 

'Tis  need  the  tulip  cheek  the  tint  of  autumn  leaf  should  wear ; 

'Tis  need  that  thy  last  home  should  be,  e'en  like  the  dregs', 
the  dust; 

'Tis  need  the  stone  from  hand  of  Fate  should  be  joy's  beak- 
er's share. 

He  is  a  man  indeed  whose  heart  is  as  a  mirror  clear; 

Man  art  thou?  why  then  doth  thy  breast  the  tiger's  fierce- 
ness bear? 

In  understanding's  eye  how  long  shall  heedless  slumber  bide? 

Will   not   war's    Lion-Monarch's    fate    suffice   to   make   thee 
ware? 

He,  Prince  of  Fortune's  Cavaliers !  he  to  whose  charger  bold. 

Whene'er  he  caracoled  or  pranced,  cramped  was  earth's  tour- 
ney square ! 

He,  to  the  lustre  of  whose  sword  the  Magyar  bowed  his 
head ! 

He,  the  dread  gleaming  of  whose  brand  the  Frank  can  well 
declare ! 
Like  tender  rose-leaf,  gently  laid  he  in  the  dust  his  face, 
And  Earth,  the  Treasurer,  him  placed  like  jewel  in  his  case. 

In  truth,  he  was  the  radiance  of  rank  high  and  glory  great, 

A  Shah,  Iskender-diademed,  of  Dârâ's  armied  state; 

Before  the  dust  beneath  his  feet  the  Sphere  bent  low  its  head ; 

Earth's  shrine  of  adoration  was  his  royal  pavilion's  gate. 

The  smallest  of  his  gifts  the  meanest  beggar  made  a  prince; 

Exceeding  bounteous,  exceeding  kind  a  Potentate! 

The  court  of  glory  of  his  kingly  majesty  most  high 

Was  aye  the  centre  where  would  hopes  of  sage  and  poet  wait. 

Although  he  yielded  to  Eternal  Destiny's  command, 

A  King  was  he  in  might  as  Doom  and  puissant  as  Fate  1 


ELEGY  ON  SULTAN  SÜLEYMAN  I        119 

Weary  and  worn  by  this  sad,  changeful  Sphere,  deem  not 

thou  him : 
Near  God  to  be,  did  he  his  rank  and  glory  abdicate. 
What  wonder  if  our  eyes  no  more  life  and  the  world  behold  1 
His  beauty  fair,  as  sun  and  moon,  did  earth  irradiate ! 

If  folk  upon  the  bright  sun  look,  with  tears  are  filled  their 

eyes; 
For  seeing  it,  doth  yon  moon-face  before  their  minds  arise ! 

Now  let  the  cloud  blood  drop  on  drop  weep,  and  its  form 
bend  low! 

And  let  the  Judas-tree  anew  in  blossoms  gore-hued  blow ! 

With  this  sad  anguish  let  the  stars'  eyes  rain  down  bitter 
tears ! 

And  let  the  smoke  from  hearts  on  fire  the  heavens  all  dark- 
ened show ! 

Their  azure  garments  let  the  skies  change  into  deepest  black! 

Let  the  whole  world  attire  itself  in  robes  of  princely  woe! 

In  breasts  of  fairies  and  of  men  still  let  the  flame  burn  on — 

Of  parting  from  the  blest  King  Süleyman  the  fiery  glow! 

His  home  above  the  highest  heaven's  ramparts  he  hath 
made; 

This  world  was  all  unworthy  of  his  majesty,  I  trow. 

The  bird,  his  soul,  hath,  huma-like,  aloft  flown  to  the  skies, 

And  naught  remaineth  save  a  few  bones  on  the  earth  below. 

The  speeding  Horseman  of  the  plain  of   Time  and   Space 

was  he ; 
Fortune  and  Fame  aye  as  his  friends  and  bridle  guides  did  go. 
The  wayward  courser,  cruel  Fate,  was  wild  and  fierce  of 

pace. 
And  fell  to  earth  the  Shade  of  God  the  Lord's  benignant 

Grace. 

Through  grief  for  thee,  bereft  of  rest  and  tearful  e'en  as  I, 
Sore  weeping  let  the  cloud  of  spring  go  wand'ring  through 

the  sky! 
And  let  the  wailing  of  the  birds  of  dawn  the  whole  world  fill ! 
Be  roses  torn!  and  let  the  nightingale  distressful  cry! 
Their  hyacinths  as  weeds  of  woe  displaying,  let  them  weep, 
Down  o'er  their  skirts  their  flowing  tears  let  pour — the  moun- 
tains high! 


I20  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

The  odor  of  thy  kindhness  recalhng,  tuHp-like, 
Within  the  Tatar  musk-deer's  heart  let  fire  of  anguish  He! 
Through  yearning  for  thee  let  the  rose  its  ear  lay  on  the  path, 
And,  narcisse-like,  till  the  last  day  the  watchman's  calling 

ply! 
Although  the  pearl-diffusing  eye  to  oceans  turned  the  world, 
Ne'er  into  being  should  there  come  a  pearl  with  thee  to  vie! 
O  heart !  this  hour  'tis  thou  that  sympathizer  art  with  me ; 
Come,  let  us  like  the  flute  bewail,  and  moan,  and  plaintive 
sigh! 
The  notes  of  mourning  and  of  dole  aloud  let  us  rehearse; 
And  let  all  those  who  grieve  be  moved  by  this  our  seven- 
fold verse. 

Will  earth's  King  ne'er  awake  from  sleep? — broke  hath  the 

dawn  of  day : 
Will  ne'er  he  move  forth  from  his  tent,  adorned  as  heaven's 

display  ? 
Long  have  our  eyes  dwelt  on  the  road,  and  yet  no  news  hath 

come 
From  yonder  land,  the  threshold  of  his  majesty's  array: 
The  color  of  his  cheek  hath  paled,  dry-lipped  he  lieth  there, 
E'en  like  that  rose  which  from  the  vase  of  flowers  hath  fall'n 

away. 
Goes  now  the  Khusrev  of  the  skies  behind  the  cloudy  veil. 
For  shame,  remembering  thy  love  and  kindness,  one  would 

say. 
My  prayer  is  ever,  "  May  the  babes,  his  tears,  go  'neath  the 

sod, 
Or  old  or  young  be  he  who  weeps  not  thee  in  sad  dismay." 
With  flame  of  parting  from  thee  let  the  sun  burn  and  con- 
sume; 
And  o'er  the  wastes  through  grief  let  darkness  of  the  clouds 

hold  sway. 
Thy  talents  and  thy  feats  let  it  recall  and  weep  in  blood. 
Yea,  let  thy  sabre  from  its  sheath  plunge  in  the  darksome  clay. 
Its  collar,  through  its  grief  and  anguish,  let  the  reed-pen 

tear! 
And  let  the  earth  its  vestment  rend  through  sorrow  and 

despair ! 


ELEGY  ON  SULTAN  SÜLEYMAN  I        121 

Thy  sabre  made  the  foe  the  anguish  dire  of  wounds  to  drain ; 
Their  tongues  are  silenced,  none  who  dares  to  gainsay  doth 

remain. 
The  youthful  cypress,  head-exalted,  looked  upon  thy  lance. 
And  ne'er  its  lissom  twigs  their  haughty  airs  displayed  again. 
Where'er  thy  stately  charger  placed  his  hoof,  from  far  and 

near 
Flocked  nobles,  all  upon  thy  path  their  lives  to  offer  fain. 
In  desert  of  mortality  the  bird,  desire,  rests  ne'er; 
Thy  sword  in  cause  of  God  did  lives  as  sacrifice  ordain. 
As  sweeps  a  scimitar,  across  earth's  face  on  every  side, 
Of  iron-girded  heroes  of  the  world  thou  threw'st  a  chain. 
Thou  took'st  a  thousand  idol  temples,  turnedst  all  to  mosques ; 
Where  jangled  bells  thou  mad'st  be  sung  the  Call  to  Prayers' 

strain. 
At  length  is  struck  the  signal  drum,  and  thou  hast  journeyed 

hence ; 
Lo!  thy  first  resting-place  is  Eden's  flowery,  verdant  plain. 
Praise  is  to  God !  for  he  in  the  Two  Worlds  hath  blessed 

thee. 
And   caused   thy   glorious   name,   Hero   and   Martyr   both 

to  be. 

Baqi,  the  beauty  of  the  King,  the  heart's  delight,  behold! 

The  mirror  of  the  work  of  God,  the  Lord  of  Right,  behold! 

The  dear  old  man  hath  passed  away  from  th'  Egypt  sad,  the 
world ; 

The  youthful  Prince,  alert  and  fair  as  Joseph  bright,  behold! 

The  Sun  hath  risen,  and  the  Dawning  gray  hath  touched  its 
bourne ; 

The  lovely  face  of  yon  Khusrev,  whose  soul  is  light,  behold! 

This  chase  now  to  the  grave  hath  sent  the  Behrâm  of  the 
Age; 

Go,  at  his  threshold  serve.  King  Erdeshîr  aright,  behold! 

The  blast  of  Fate  to  all  the  winds  hath  blown  Suleymân's 
throne ; 

Sultan  Selîm  Khân  on  Iskender's  couch  of  might,  behold! 

The  Tiger  of  the  mount  of  war  to  rest  in  sleep  hath  gone ; 

The  Lion  who  doth  now  keep  watch  on  glory's  height,  be- 
hold ! 


122  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

The  Peacock  fair  of  Eden's  mead  hath  soared  to  Heaven's 

parterre ; 
The  lustre  of  the  htima  of  high,  happy  flight,  behold! 

Eternal  may  the  glory  of  the  heaven-high  Khusrev  dwell! 
Blessings  be  on  the  Monarch's  soul  and  spirit — and  fare- 
well! 

Baqi. 

GAZEL 

Cruel  tyranny  we  love  not,  nay,  to  justice  we  incline; 
Full  contentedly  our  eyes  wait  for  the  blest  command  divine. 
Know  we  truly,  for  a  mirror,  world-reflecting,  is  our  heart; 
Yet  conceive  not  us  to  Fortune's  ever-changeful  ways  supine. 
To  the  rule  of  God  submissive,  all  concern  we  cast  aside; 
We  indeed  on  him  confiding,  on  his  providence  recline. 
Shall  our  heart  anoint  its  eye  then  with  the  kuhl  of  Isfahan? 
Pleased  it  with  this  t  üt  yâ:  dust  that  doth  the  Fair  One's  path- 
way line. 
Since  our  heart,  'Adlî,  within  Love's  crucible  was  purified, 
'Midst  the  universe,  from  guile  and  guilt  free,  bright  our  soul 

doth  shine. 

'Adll. 

GAZEL 

Oh  that  a  fragrant  breath  might  reach  the  soul  from  early 
spring ! 

Oh  that  with  warbling  sweet  of  birds  the  groves  once  more 
might  ring! 

Oh  that  in  melody  the  songs  anew  might  rose-like  swell ! 

That  fresh  in  grace  and  voice  the  nightingale  be  heard  to 
sing! 

Oh  that  the  New  Year's  Day  were  come,  when,  minding  times 
gone  by. 

Should  each  and  all  from  Time  and  Fate  demand  their  reck- 
oning I 

In  short,  O  Bakhtî,  would  the  early  vernal  days  were  here, 

Then,  'midst  the  mead,  ne'er  should  we  part  from  brink  of 
limpid  spring. 

BakhtJ. 


MÜSEDDES  123 


GAZEL 


Soon  as  I  beheld  thee,  mazed  and  wildered  grew  my  sad 
heart ; 

How  shall  I  my  love  disclose  to  thee  who  tyrant  dread  art? 

How  shall  I  hold  straight  upon  my  road,  when  yonder  Tor- 
ment 

Smitten  hath  my  breast  with  deadly  wounds  by  her  eyelash 
dart? 

Face,  a  rose;  and  mouth,  a  rosebud;  form,  a  slender  sap- 
ling- 
How  shall  I  not  be  the  slave  of  Princess  such  as  thou  art? 

Ne'er  hath  heart  a  beauty  seen  like  her  of  graceful  figure; 

Joyous  would  I  for  yon  charmer's  eyebrow  with  my  life 
part. 

Fârisî,  what  can  I  do  but  love  that  peerless  beauty? 

Ah!  this  aged  Sphere  hath  made  me  lover  of  yon  sweetheart. 

Fârisi. 

MÜSEDDES 

Ah  !  that  once  again  my  heart  with  blood  is  filled,  like  beaker, 
high; 

At  the  feast  of  parting  from  my  love  I  fell,  and  prostrate  lie ; 

O'er  this  wildered  heart  the  gloom  of  frenzy,  conquering, 
doth  fly; 

In  the  valley  of  distraction  ne'er  a  guide  can  I  descry. 
Heedless    mistress !    loveless    Fortune  1    ever-shifting,    rest- 
less sky! 
Sorrows  many!    friends  not  any!    strong-starred   foeman! 
feeble  I ! 

In  the  land  of  exile  loomed  dark  on  one  side  the  night  of  woe. 

Nowhere  o'er  me  did  the  lustrous  moon  of  beauty's  heaven 
glow ; 

Yonder  glared  the  Two  Infortunes,  sank  my  helping  planet 
low; 

Here  did  fortune,  there  did  gladness,  parting  from  me,  dis- 
tant go. 


124  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Heedless  mistress!  loveless  Fortune!  ever-shifting,  restless 

sky! 
Sorrows   many!  friends    not   any!  strong-starred    foeman! 

feeble  I ! 

Strange  is't  if  the  nightingale,  my  heart,  in  thousand  notes 
doth  wail? 

Fate  to  part  it  from  the  rosebud,  the  beloved,  did  prevail; 

Whilst  I'm  on  the  thorn  of  anguish,  rivals  with  my  love  re- 
gale: 

Why  recite  my  woes,  O  comrades?  space  were  none  to  tell 
their  tale! 
Heedless    mistress!    loveless    Fortune!    ever-shifting,    rest- 
less sky! 
Sorrows   many!  friends   not   any!    strong-starred   foeman! 
feeble  I ! 

E'en  a  moment  at  the  feast  of  woes  from  tears  can  I  refrain? 

How  shall  not  the  wine,  my  tears,  down  rolling,  all  my  vest- 
ment stain? 

Can  it  be  with  e'en  one  breath  I  should  not  like  the  reed 
complain  ? 

Sad,  confused,  like  end  of  banquet,  why  then  should  not  I 
remain  ? 
Heedless    mistress!    loveless    Fortune!    ever-shifting,    rest- 
less sky! 
Sorrows  many!    friends  not  any!    strong-starred  foeman! 
feeble  I ! 

Yonder   Princess,   though     I   served   her,   pitiless   drave   me 

away. 
Banished  me  far  from  her  city,   sent  me  from  her  court's 

array : 
When  I  parted  from  her  tresses,  black  the  world  before  me 

lay; 
Helpless  'midst  the  darkness  did  I,  like  unto  'Ata'i,  stray. 
Heedless    mistress!    loveless    Fortune!    ever-shifting,    rest- 
less sky ! 
Sorrows  many!   friends  not  any!   strong-starred   foeman! 

feeble  I ! 

'A  tax 


TO   SULTAN   MURÂD   IV  125 


GAZEL 

Be  thou  wise  and  thoughtful,  e'en  as  qalendcr  in  mind  be 
free; 

Nor  a  faithless,  graceless  paynim,  nor  a  bigot  Moslem  be. 

Be  not  vain  of  wisdom,  though  thou  be  the  Plato  of  the  age ; 

Be  a  school-child  when  a  learned  man  and  righteous  thou 
dost  see. 

Like  the  world-adorning  sun,  rub  thou  thy  face  low  'midst 
the  dust ; 

Overwhelm  earth  with  thy  planet,  yet  without  a  planet  be. 

Fret  not  after  Khizar,  rather  go,  and,  like  to  Nef'i's  heart, 

At  the  channel  of  Life's  Stream  of  grace  drink  full  content- 
edly. Nef'l. 

TO    SULTAN    MURÂD   IV 

Round  us  foes  throng,  host  to  aid  us  here  in  sad  plight,  is 

there  none? 
In  the  cause  of  God  to  combat,  chief  of  tried  might,  is  there 

none  ? 
None  who  will  checkmate  the  foe.  Castle  to  Castle,  face  to  face 
In  the  battle  who  will  Queen-like  guide  the  brave  Knight,  is 

there  none? 
Midst  a  fearful  whirlpool  we  are  fallen  helpless,  send  us  aid! 
Us  to  rescue,  a  strong  swimmer  in  our  friends'  sight,  is  there 

none? 
IMidst  the  fight  to  be  our  comrade,  head  to  give  or  heads  to 

take. 
On  the  field  of  earth  a  hero  of  renown  bright,  is  there  none? 
Know  we  not  wherefore  in  turning  off  our  woes  ye  thus 

delay ; 
Day  of  Reckoning,  aye,  and  question  of  the  poor's  plight,  is 

there  none? 
With  us  'midst  the  foeman's   flaming  streams   of  scorching 

fire  to  plunge, 
Salamander  with  experience  of  Fate  dight,  is  there  none? 
This  our  letter,  to  the  court  of  Sultan  Murad,  quick  to  bear, 
Pigeon,  rapid  as  the  storm  wind  in  its  swift  flight,  is  there 

none?  Hafis  Pacha. 


126  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


IN   REPLY   TO   THE   PRECEDING 

To  relieve  Bagdad,  O  Hâfiz,  man  of  tried  might,  is  there 

none  ? 
Aid  from  us  thou  seek'st,  then  with  thee  host  of  fame  bright, 

is  there  none? 
"  I'm  the  Queen  the  foe  who'll  checkmate,"  thus  it  was  that 

thou  didst  say; 
Room  for  action  now  against  him  with  the  brave  Knight,  is 

there  none? 
Though  we  know  thou  hast  no  rival  in  vainglorious,  empty 

boasts, 
Yet  to  take  dread  vengeance  on  thee,  say,  a  Judge  right,  is 

there  none? 
While  thou  layest  claim  to  manhood,  whence  this  cowardice 

of  thine? 
Thou  art  frightened,  yet  beside  thee  fearing  no  fight,  is  there 

none? 
Heedless  of  thy  duty  thou,  the  Rafizis  have  ta'en  Bagdad ; 
Shall  not  God  thy  foe  be?     Day  of  Reckoning,  sure,  right, 

is  there  none? 
They  have  wrecked  Ebû-Hanîfa's  city  through  thy  lack  of 

care; 
Oh,  in  thee  of  Islam's  and  the  Prophet's  zeal,  light,  is  there 

none? 
God,  who  favored  us,  whilst  yet  we  knew  not,  with  the  Sul- 
tanate, 
Shall  again  accord  Bagdad,  decreed  of  God's  might,  is  there 

none? 
Thou  hast  brought  on  Islam's  army  direful  ruin  with  thy 

bribes ; 
Have  we  not  heard  how  thou  say'st,   "  Word   of  this  foul 

blight,  is  there  none  ?  " 
With  the  aid  of  God,  fell  vengeance  on  the  enemy  to  take. 
By   me   skilled  and  aged,   vezir,   pious,   zeal-dight,   is   there 

none  ? 
Now  shall  I  appoint  commander  a  vezir  of  high  emprise, 
Will  not  Khizar  and  the  Prophet  aid  him?  guide  right,  is 

there  none? 


JIHÂN   BÂNÜ  127 

Is  it  that  thou  dost  the  whole  world  void  and  empty  now 

conceive  ? 
Of  the  Seven  Climes,  Murâdî,  King  of  high  might,  is  there 

none? 

Murâdî. 


LUGAZ 

There's  an  o'erhanging  castle  in  which  there  flows  a  main, 
And  there  within  that  castle  a  fish  its  home  hath  ta'en ; 
The  fish  within  its  mouth  doth  hold  a  shining  gem, 
Which  wastes  the  fish  as  long  as  it  therein  doth  remain. 
This  puzzle  to  the  poets  is  offered  by  Murad ; 
Let  him  reply  who  office  or  place  desires  to  gain. 

Muradı. 


SACHLI   ZEMÂN.     (FORTUNE   THE   LONG- 
HAIRED) 

Zeman  the  Long-haired,  'midst  these  lovely  ones  see, 
A  wayward,  wanton  Torment  of  the  world  she. 
Like  Fortune,  she  nor  clemency  nor  grace  knows; 
The  number  of  her  hairs  her  lovers'  tale  shows. 
The  tribute  from  the  realm  of  hearts  her  curls  bore, 
Seduced  me  have  these  locks  that  hang  her  neck  o'er. 

'Azısı. 


JIHÂN    BÂNÜ.      (LADY   WORLD) 

She  whom  they  call  Jihan  's  a  damsel  moon-faced. 
Who,  like  the  World,  is  faithless,  and  doth  hearts  waste. 
Save  faithlessness,  though  comes  not  from  the  World  aught ; 
The  heart  from  that  love  of  the  soul  can  pass  not. 
Let  but  her  mind  contented  be  with  poor  me. 
Then  may  the  World  divorced  from  me  for  aye  be. 

'A2I2Î. 


128  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


LÂ'L-PARA.     (RUBY-CHIP) 

Lâ'l-Para  as  her  name  doth  one  of  these  own, 
A  girl  whose  heart  is  hard  as  is  the  flint-stone. 
Her  mouth  in  very  truth's  a  ruby  bright  red, 
Her  teeth  are  pearls,  so  too  the  words  by  her  said. 
Strange  were  it,  if  my  heart  be  by  her  love  slaved? 
For  sooth  her  rubies  bear  the  "  coral-prayer  "  graved. 

'Azizl. 

ÂQ-'ÂLEM.     (WHITE   UNIVERSE) 

And  Aq-'Alem  they  one  of  yonder  maids  call, 
For  her  the  moon  of  heaven  acteth  jackal. 
Is't  strange  if  through  her  loveliness  she  famed  be  ? 
A  white  Rose  on  the  earth  is  yonder  Hûrî. 
He  who  with  that  bright  Moon  as  friend  goes, 
A  universe  enjoys  more  fair  than  earth  shows. 

'Azizl. 

MÜSEDDES 

Be  mine  for  dress,  the  piercing  thorn !  be  mine  for  couch,  the 

hard,  hard  stone ! 
Be  mine  for  home,  grief's  cot !  be  mine  for  bread,  woe's  tears ! 

for  work,  pain's  moan! 
Be  all  my  bleeding  frame   with   wounds  of  cruel   foeman's 

hatred  sown ! 
Be  these  rejoiced  in  heart  and  gay  who  make  my  grieving 

soul  to  groan! 
Be  all  those  glad  by  whom  my  aching  heart  is  tortured  and 

o'erthrown ! 
Be  those  blest  with  their  wish  who  say  of  me,  "  Be  all 

his  hopes  cast  prone !  " 

Unfaithfulness  is  aye  the  rule  which  guides  the  Sphere  that 

loves  to  pain. 
The  inborn  nature  of  the  Skies  is  but  to  manifest  disdain ; 
Within  the  breasts  of  those  who  pleasure  seek  there  lurks 

some  yearning  vain ; 


MÜSEDDES 


129 


O  heart,  blest  is  the  practice  of  the  thought  enshrined  in  this 

refrain : 
Be  all  those  glad  by  whom  my  aching  heart  is  tortured  and 

o'erthrown ! 
Be  those  blest  with  their  wish  who  say  of  me,  "  Be  all 

his  hopes  cast  prone !  " 

When  time  is  past,  rejoiced  shall  swell  the  hearts  of  all  my 
comrades  dear; 

And  through  their  cruelty — my  choice — my  foes  shall  mourn 
in  sorrow  drear. 

Let  all  those  learn  this  verse  of  me  who  hap  to  come  my  path- 
way near, 

And  let  them  from  the  tongues  of  that  green  sward  which 
decks  my  grave  this  hear: 
Be  all  those  glad  by  whom  my  aching  heart  is  tortured  and 

o'erthrown  I 
Be  those  blest  with  their  wish  who  say  of  me,  "  Be  all 
his  hopes  cast  prone !  " 

Within  this  hostel  of  the  world  my  portion  is  the  tray  of  dole ; 
My  eye,  the  birthplace  of  the  flame,  refuseth  health's  most 

pleasant  stole ; 
Fatigue,  the  rest  of  my  sad  heart;  anguish,  the  present  to 

my  soul ; 
Ne'er  through  Eternity  to  gain  my  longing  is  my  longing's  goal. 
Be  all  those  glad  by  whom  my  aching  heart  is  tortured  and 

o'erthrown ! 
Be  those  blest  with  their  wish  who  say  of  me,  "  Be  all 

his  hopes  cast  prone !  " 

O  Nâ'ilî,  is't  possible  to  change  or  alter  Fate's  decree? 

Annulled  can  ever  be  the  edict  writ  by  pen  of  Destiny  ? 

My  heart  is  gladdened  with  this  thought,  that  ne'er  an  hour's 

delay  can  be 

In  whetting  keen  and  sharp  that  axe  of  pain  which  rust  can 

never  see. 

Be  all  those  glad  by  whom  my  aching  heart  is  tortured  and 

o'erthrown ! 

Be  those  blest  with  their  wish  who  say  of  me,   "  Be  all 

his  hopes  cast  prone!"  »r  ,-, 

No  ill. 


13° 


OTTOMAN   POEMS 


GAZEL 


He  who  union  with  the  Lord  gains,  more  delight  desireth  not ! 

He  who  looks  on  charms  of  fair  one,  other  sight  desireth  not. 

Pang  of  love  is  lover's  solace,  eagerly  he  seeks  therefor, 

Joys  he  in  it,  balm  or  salve  for  yonder  blight,  desireth  not. 

Paradise  he  longs  not  after,  nor  doth  aught  beside  regard; 

Bower  and  Garden,  Mead,  and  Youth,  and  Hûrî  bright,  de- 
sireth not. 

From  the  hand  of  Power  Unbounded  draineth  he  the  Wine  of 
Life, 

Aye  inebriate  with  Knowledge,  learning's  light,  desireth  not. 

He  who  loves  the  Lord  is  monarch  of  an  empire,  such  that 
he— 

King  of  Inward  Mysteries — Suleyman's  might,  desireth  not. 

Thou  art  Sultan  of  my  heart,  aye.  Soul  of  my  soul  e'en  art 
Thou; 

Thou  art  Soul  enow,  and  Sidqi  other  plight  desireth  not. 

Sidql. 

MUNÂJÂT 

Allah  !  Lord   who   liv'st   for   aye !     O    Sole !     O   King  of 

Glory's  Ray ! 
Monarch  who  ne'er  shalt  pass  away!  show  Thou  to  us  Thy 

bounties  fair. 
In  early   morning  shall   our   cry,   our   wail,   mount   to   Thy 

Throne  on  high : 
"  Error  and  sin  our  wont,"  we  sigh :  show  Thou  to  us  Thy 

bounties  fair. 
If  Cometh  not  from  Thee  Thy  grace,  evil  shall  all  our  works 

deface ; 
O  Lord  of  Being  and  of  Space !  show  Thou  to  us  Thy  bounties 

fair. 
Creator  of  security!  to  Thy  Beloved  greetings  be! 
These  fair  words  are  in  sincerity :  show  Thou  to  us  Thy  boun- 
ties fair 
Iqbali  sinned  hath  indeed,  yet  unto  him  Thy  grace  concede ; 
Eternal,  Answerer  in  need!  show  Thou  to  us  Thy  bounties 

fair.  Iqbali, 


MUKHAMMES  131 

MUKHAMMES 

Alas  !  nor  dew  nor  smiling  rose  within  this  mead  is  mine ; 
Within  this  market-place  nor  trade  nor  coin  for  need  is  mine ; 
Nor  more  nor  less ;  nor  power  nor  strength  for  act  or  deed  is 

mine ; 
Nor  might  nor  eminence ;  nor  balm  the  cure  to  speed  is  mine. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

Being's  the  bounty  of  the  Lord ;  and  Life,  the  gift  Divine ; 

The  Breath,  the  present  of  his  love;  and  Speech  his  Grace's 
sign; 

The  Body  is  the  pile  of  God;  the  Soul,  his  Breath  benign; 

The  Powers  thereof,  his  Glory's  trust;  the   Senses,  his  de- 
sign. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

No  work,  no  business  of  my  own  within  this  mart  have  I ; 
All  Being  is  of  him  alone — no  life  apart  have  I ; 
No  choice  of  entering  this  world,  or  hence  of  start  have  I ; 
To  cry,  "  I  am !     I  am !  "  in  truth,  no  power  of  heart  have  L 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

The  Earth  the  carpet  is  of  Power;    the  Sphere,  the  tent  of 

Might ; 
The  Stars,  both  fixed  and  wandering,  are  Glory's  lamps  of 

light; 
The  World's  the  issue  of  the  grace  of  Mercy's  treasures  bright ; 
With  Forms  of  beings  is  the  page  of  Wisdom's  volume  dight. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

Being  is  but  a  loan  to  us,  and  Life  in  trust  we  hold: 
In  slaves  a  claim  to  Power's  pretension  arrogant  and  bold ; 
The  servant's  part  is  by  submission  and  obedience  told ; 
Should  He,  "  My  slave,"  address  to  me,  'twere  favors  mani- 
fold. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

I'm  poor  and  empty-handed,  but  grace  free  is  of  the  Lord; 
Nonentity's  my  attribute:  to  Be  is  of  the  Lord; 


132 


OTTOMAN   POEMS 


For  Being  or  Non-being's  rise,  decree  is  of  the  Lord; 
The  surging  of  the  Seen  and  Unseen's  sea  is  of  the  Lord. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

Of  gifts  from  table  of  his  Bounty  is  my  daily  bread ; 
My  breath  is  from  the  Breath  of  God's  benignant  Mercy  fed; 
My  portion  from  the  favors  of  Almighty  Power  is  shed; 
And  my  provision  is  from  Providence's  kitchen  spread. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

I  cannot,  unallotted,  take  my  share  from  wet  or  dry; 
From  land  or  from  the  ocean,  from  earth  or  from  the  sky; 
The  silver  or  the  gold  will  come,  by  Providence  laid  by ; 
I  cannot  grasp  aught  other  than  my  fortune  doth  supply. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

Creation's  Pen  the  lines  of  billows  of  events  hath  traced ; 
Th'  illumined  scroll  of  the  Two  Worlds,   Creation's   Pencil 

graced ; 
Their  garments  upon  earth  and  sky,  Creation's  woof  hath 

placed ; 
Men's   forms   are   pictures    in    Creation's    great    Shâh-Nâma 

traced. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

I  cannot  make  the  morning  eve,  or  the  dark  night  the  day; 
I  cannot  turn  the  air  to  fire,  or  dust  to  water's  spray ; 
I  cannot  bid  the  Sphere  stand  still,  or  mountain  region  stray ; 
I  cannot  Autumn  turn  by  will  of  mine  to  lovely  May. 

Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

From  out  of  Nothingness  his  mighty  Power  made  me  appear ; 
Whilst  in  the  womb  I  lay,  saw  he  to  all  I  need  for  here ; 
With  kindness  concealed  and  manifest  did  he  me  rear; 
With  me  he  drew  a  curtain  o'er  Distinction's  beauty  dear. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

God's  Revelation  is  Discernment's  Eye,  if 't  oped  remain ; 
The  picturings  of  worlds  are  all  things  changing  aye  amain ; 
The  showing  of  the  Hidden  Treasure  is  this  raging  main, 
This  work,  this  business  of  the  Lord,  this  Majesty  made  plain. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 


MUNAJÂT  133 

Now  void,  now  full,  are  Possibility's  store-houses  vast; 
This  glass-lined  world's  the  mirror  where  Lights  Twain  their 

phases  cast ; 
The  blinded  thing — in  scattering  strange  fruits  its  hours  are 

past; 
Ruined  hath  this  old  Vineyard  been  by  autumn's  sullen  blast. 
Oh,  that  I  knew  what  here  I  am,  that  which  indeed  is  mine ! 

Nahi. 


GAZEL 

Ne^er  a  corner  for  the  plaintive  bulbul's  nest  remaineth  now ; 
Ne'er  a  palm-tree  'neath  whose  kindly  shade  is  rest  remaineth 

now. 
Day  and  night  some  balm   I've   sought   for,   to   relieve   my 

wounded  heart ; 
Ne'er  a  cure  within  the  heavens'  turquoise  chest  remaineth 

now. 
From  its  source,  through  every  country,  searched  have  I,  but 

all  in  vain — 
Ne'er  a  single  drop,  in  mercy's  fountain  blest,  remaineth  now. 
Empty  earthen  pots  are  reckoned  one  with  jewels  rich  and 

rare; 
Ne'er  a  scale  in  value's  mart  the  worth  to  test  remaineth  now. 
'Neath  the  earth  may  now  the  needy  hide  themselves,  Nâbî, 

away; 
Ne'er  a  turret  on  the  fort  of  interest  remaineth  now. 

Nahl. 

MUNÂJÂT 

O  Lord,  to  Thee  is  never  a  beginning,  neither  end ; 

Thy  mercy's  ocean,  limitless,  doth  over  all  extend. 

E'en  though  the  value-weighing  hand  of  Thine  unbounded 
might 

Hath  wrought  astounding  marvels  that  all  numbering  tran- 
scend, 

Yet,  Lord,  Thou  formedst  Adam  in  the  best  of  symmetry; 


134  OTTOMAN    POEMS 

Thou  worthy   of  thy  grace  to  make  this   folk   didst   conde- 
scend. 
Unfathomed  and  unsounded  lies  thy  mercy's  ocean  vast, 
Which  truly  hath  made  earth  beneath  its  surging  waves  de- 
scend : 
O  Lord,  could  any  hurt  or  harm  befall  that  shoreless  deep, 
Did  thou  a  single  drop  therefrom  to  this  thy  servant  send? 
Since  'Arif  owns  a  Master  kind  in  graciousness  like  thee, 
O  Lord,  before  another's  door  were't  right  for  him  to  bend  ? 
O  Lord,  thus  ever  doth  in  joy  thy  blest  device  appear — 
Thy  greatest  glory  from  the  works  of  vileness  thou  dost 
rear ! 

'Arif. 

GAZEL 

The  sun  of  love  for  thy  fair  cheek  the  heart's  core  floods  with 
radiant  light ; 

The  soul's  most  secret  court  is  filled  with  dazzling  rays  at 
thy  sweet  sight. 

With  union's  joys  though  blest  one  be,  or  though  with  pangs 
of  absence  torn, 

Are  still  sad  wail  and  plaintive  cry  the  e'er-true  signs  of  love- 
lorn plight. 

Then  welcome,  O  thou  gentlest  breeze,  that  bear'st  to  him 
who  dwells  midst  woe. 

As  news  from  yonder  absent  maid  the  sweet  scent  of  her 
garment  white. 

Of  gilded  halls  no  need  in  sooth  to  libertines  when  wine  flows 
free; 

Some  ruined  den  beseems  them  more,  like  Jemshid's  hut  of 
woful  site. 

The  sparks  raised  by  my  passioned  sighs'  and  plainings'  smoke 
are  each  one  quenched ; 

For  every  tear  that  rolleth  down  upon  my  robe's  a  rich  pearl 
bright. 

O  'Arif!  this  poor  captive  bird  hath  grown  to  love  th'  en- 
tangling snare ; 

For  curling  locks  to  careworn  hearts  afford  a  refuge  sure 
from  friofht. 

'Arif. 


Ö 


FAREWELL    POEM  135 


FAREWELL    POEM 

Ah,  my  Joy!  thou'rt  gone,  and  my  sad  weeping  heart  hast 
borne  indeed. 

And  my  breast  by  bitter  parting's  raging  fires  all  worn  in- 
deed; 

Grief  for  thee  in  hundred  pieces  hath  my  raiment  torn  in- 
deed; 

Be  thy  escort  on  the  journey  tears  I  weep,  forlorn  indeed. 
Thou  art  gone,  and  longing  for  thee  makes  my  heart  to 

mourn  indeed ; 
Without  thee,  banquets  where  friends  meet,  all  I  have  for- 
sworn indeed. 

Wheresoe'er  thy   footsteps   wander,   be   the   aid   of   God   thy 
guide ; 

As  the  pilot  to  thy  wishes  be  His  grace  aye  at  thy  side ; 

Shadow  for  thy  crown  of  glory  may  the  huma's  wing  pro- 
vide; 

Ah!  may  ever-joyous,  happy  fortune  on  thy  path  abide. 
Thou  art  gone,  and  longing  for  thee  makes  my  heart  to 

mourn  indeed ; 
Without  thee,  banquets  where  friends  meet,  all  I  have  for- 
sworn indeed. 

0  thou  Source  of  joy  and  quiet  unto  my  poor  grieving  breast ! 
Hence  forever  I  with  separation's  fires  am  sore  opprest ; 
Thou,  Crown  of  my  joy !  my  Treasure !  mercy  show  to  me 

distrest ! 
Now,  my  Lord,  to  whom  shall  Master's  title  be  by  me  addrest  ? 

Thou  art  gone,  and  longing  for  thee  makes  my  heart  to  ^ 
mourn  indeed ; 

Without  thee,  banquets  where  friends  meet,  all  I  have  for- 
sworn indeed. 

Ever  in  thy  court  of  service  may  th'  inconstant  heavens  be ! 

1  am  fallen,  soul  and  body,  to  woe's  depths  by  their  decree ; 
From  a  kindly  master  like  thee,  merciless,  they've  sundered 

me; 
And  into  the  dreary  vale  of  exile  have  they  driven  thee. 


136  OTTOMAN    POEMS 

Thou  art  gone,  and  longing  for  thee  makes  my  heart  to, 
mourn  indeed ; 

Without  thee,  banquets  where  friends  meet,  all  I  have  for- 
sworn indeed. 

Though  I'm  far  now  from  the  shadow  of  thy  love,  O  Cypress 

straight, 
Still  my  prayers  I  may  offer  for  thy  happiness  of  state. 
Think  at  times  upon  thy  servant  'Arif  sitting  desolate; 
Him  from  near  thy  skirt  of  kindness  taken  hath  his  dark- 
some fate. 
Thou  art  gone,  and  longing  for  thee  makes  my  heart  to 

mourn  indeed ; 
Without  thee,  banquets  where  friends  meet,  all  I  have  for- 
sworn indeed. 

'Arif. 

GAZEL 

The  realm  of  patience  thou'st  laid  waste,  Helâgû  hight  art 

thou,  Paynim? 
O  mercy !  thou'st  the  world  consumed,  a  blazing  light  art  thou, 

Paynim  ? 
A  maiden's  grace,  is  that  thy  grace,  a  conquering  hero's  voice, 

thy  voice; 
Thou  Woe,  I  know  not,  maid  or  youthful  lord  of  might  art 

thou,  Paynim? 
What  mean  those  hidden,  secret  sighs,  and  tears,  and  saddest 

grievings,  pray? 
The  wailing  lover  of  some  wanton  gay  and  bright,  art  thou, 

Paynim  ? 
Why  on  the  polished  mirror  dost  thou  thus  so  frequent  cast 

thine  eyes? 
Bewildered  and  distraught  at  thine  own  beauty's  sight  art 

thou,  Paynim? 
I've  heard  that  poor  Nedim  hath  been  by  cruel  Paynim  captive 

ta'en — 
That  fierce  oppressor  of  the  Faith,  and  foe  of  right,  art  thou, 

Paynim  ? 

Nedlm. 


I 


GAZEL  137 


GAZEL 


o  heart!  e'en  though  thou  tcll'st  thy  woes,  yon  maid  will 

ne'er  compassion  deign : 
When  constancy  and  troth  thou  seek'st,  dost  thou  address  the 

barren  plain? 
The    student    of   the   course    of   tyranny    is    yonder    wanton 

wild; 
To  look  for  faith  or  grace  from  her  who  enmity  desires  is 

vain. 
That  paynim  glance  doth  hold  in  hand  a  dagger  sharp  of 

point  and  keen; 
And  yet,  O  babe,  my  heart,  thou  dost  to  thousands  sing  her 

praises'  strain. 
In  hope  that  it  would  yield  the  soul  a  breath  of  favor's  odor 

sweet, 
How  yonder  rosebud-mouth   efifaceth  all,  thou   dost   thereto 

explain. 
O   Sabqati,   what   wondrous   science   hath   thy   magic   talent 

learnt, 
That  thou  right  royally  inditest  every  joyous,  glad  refrain? 

Sabqatt. 


GAZEL 

A  ROSE-LEAF  o'cr  the  spikenard  fall'n — the  red  fez  lies  on  her 

dark  hair ; 
The  perspiration  studs  her  cheeks — the  dew-drops  which  the 

roses  wear. 
Since  mirrored  in  th'  o'erflowing  bowl  did  yon  cup-bearer's 

chin  beam  bright. 
My  eyes  were  fixed  upon  that  wine,  like  bubbles  which  that 

wine  did  bear. 
Behold  thou,  then,  her  braided  locks,  as  musk,  all  dark  and 

sweet  perfumed; 
Like  ambergris,  her  tresses  shed  abroad  an  odor  rich  and 

rare. 


138  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Those  who  set  forth  on  Mystic  Path  behind  soon  leave  the 

earth-born  love; 
The  Bridge,  as  home,  within  this  world  of  ours,  no  man  hath 

taken  e'er. 
Now,  O  Belîg,  that  steed,  thy  reed,  doth  caracole  across  this 

page ; 
Thy  finger-points,  the  Hayder  bold  whom  that  Duldul  doth 

onward  bear. 

Bellg. 

ON   A   DANCING-GIRL 

When    that    beauty    of    a    dancing-girl    her    castanets    hath 

ta'en, 
Should  the  sun  and  moon  behold  her,  jealous,  each  were  rent 

in  twain. 
Patience  from  my  soul  is  banished  when  beginneth  she  to 

dance ; 
Leaps  with  her  my  heart ;  my  eyesight,  faltering,  is  like  to 

wane. 
When  the  moon  looks  down  upon  her,  must  it  not  be  seared 

of  heart? 
Yonder  moon-fair  one  her  crimson  skirt  for  halo  bright  hath 

ta'en. 
In  her  motions  and  her  pausings  what  varieties  of  grace! 
While   her   lovely    frame   doth   tremble,    like   to   quicksilver, 

amain ! 
Full   delighted   at   her   motions,   loud   as   thunder   roars   the 

drum ; 
Beats  its  breast  the  tambourine,  its  bells  commence  to  mourn 

and  plain. 
When   she   cometh,   like   a   fairy,   begging  money   from  the 

crowd. 
In  her  tambourine,  had  one  a  hundred  lives,  he'd  cast  them 

fain. 
Deck    her    out    on    gala-days,    and    take    her    by    the    hand, 

Belig; 
Yonder   spark-like   Idol  hath   consumed   my  soul   with   fiery 

pain. 

Bellg. 


FRAGMENT  139 


GAZEL 

Surge  in  waves  my  streaming  tears,  e'en  like  a  rushing  flood, 

once  more, 
From  their  smallest  drop,  the  sources  of  a  hundred   Niles 

would  pour. 
Overwhelm  the  raging  billows  of  my  tears  the  heart's  frail  bark, 
Though  the  mem'ry  of  her  cheek,  like  to  the  beacon,  radiance 

throw. 
What  my  pen  writes  down  appeareth,  in  the  eyes  of  brutish 

men, 
Like  the  needle  to  the  blinded,  of  discerning  clear  the  foe. 
One  the  beggar's  bowl  would  be  with  the  tiara  of  the  King, 
Were  it  but  reversed,  for  then  like  to  the  royal  crown  'twould 

show. 
Though  it  be  coarse  as  a  rush-mat,  is  that  soul  the  seat  of 

grace, 
Which  doth,  like  the  wattle  basket,  freely  bread  to  guests  be- 
stow. 
"  Yonder  hair-waist  I  encircled,"  did  the  braggart  rival  say ; 
But  her  waist  exists  not — hair-like  slight  his  boasting's  truth 

doth  show. 
O  thou  vain  one!  see,  what  anguish  to  the  head  of  Nimrod 

brought 
Was  by  one  gnat's  sting,  which  like  to  trunk  of  elephant  dfd 

grow. 
Sâmî,  it  is  thy  intention  to  compare  to  heaven's  bowers 
These  thy  distichs  eight,  with  shining  flowers  of  rhetoric  that 

glow.  SamT. 

FRAGMENT 

Think  not  that  with  Kevser's  praises  hearts  become  of  joy 

full; 
Preacher,  rather  doth  the  tale  of  mouth  and  kiss  the  soul  rule. 
Thinking  of  her  rubies  red,  whene'er  I  drink  tobacco, 
The  nargila's  a  flask  of  wine,  the  pipe-bowl  is  a  sumhul. 
Know  how  holy  is  her  land :  who  dwelleth  in  Edirna, 
Ere  he  to  the  Ka'ba  bends,  doth  turn  him  to  Istambul. 

Sâmî. 


I40  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


GAZEL 

Near  thy  rubies,  ne'er  I  bow  my  head  to  wine  of  rosy  hue ; 

'Neath  the  shadow  of  the  Magian  priest,  I  ne'er  the  glass 
eschew. 

Now  it  makes  me  exile's  prisoner,  now  the  comrade  close  of 
pain — 

What  to  do  I  know  not,  what  with  this  sad  fate  of  mine  to 
do! 

E'en  the  Home  of  Peace  it  turneth  to  the  cot  of  woe  for  me. 

Through  the  longing  for  thy  dusky  mole,  when  Sham  I  jour- 
ney through. 

Since  'tis  needful  midst  the  people  that  I  still  reside  and 
move, 

If  the  days  ne'er  suit  me,  I  shall  suit  myself  the  days  unto. 

Never  unto  Nev-res,  never,  will  thy  sweet  words  bitter  seem ; 

Speak  thou,  then,  for  I'm  contented  all  reproach  to  hearken  to. 

Nev-res. 


GAZEL 

If  the   fair   one   would  but   come   in   her   lover's   home  to 

stay. 
Were  his  eyes  not  filled  with  light  by  her  face  as  bright  as 

day? 
Or  would  yonder  Moon  but  dart  that  her  glance  as  dagger 

keen. 
And  my  rival's  bosom  pierce  that,  like  flute,  he  breathe  dis- 
may! 
Fly  not  this  poor  one,  Moon-face,  who  hath  drunken  deep  of 

woe; 
Order  not  that  I  be  burned  in  the  fire  of  love,  I  pray. 
If  the  Grace  of  God  the  Lord  to  a  slave  should  aider  be, 
Though  he  lack  a  single  groat  he'll  the  Sphere  as  monarch 

sway. 
Rush  the  tear  drops  from  my  eyes  through  their  longing  for 

thy  face; 
By   its   power   thy   sun-like   face   doth   the   dew-drops    steal 

away. 


THE   SONG   OF   LOVE'S   NURSE  141 

By  the  Mystic  Pathway's  side,  if  thou'rt  wise,  a  hostel  build, 

For  the  travellers  of  Love,  as  a  caravanserai. 

Proud  and  noble  mistress  mine,  with  those  eyebrows  and  those 

eyes, 
Where  a  need  of  bow  and  shaft  this  thy  lover  fond  to  slay? 
Thou  hast  loosed  thy  tresses  dark,  o'er  thy  day-face  spread  a 

veil — 
Or  in  House  of  Scorpio  is  the  Moon  eclipsed,  say? 
Should  my  loved  one  pierce  my  breast,  right  contented  sooth 

were  I ; 
Only  worthy  of  her  grace  let  that  Moon-face  me  survey. 
Write,  O  pen,  that  I  desire,  like  the  salamander,  fire ; 
Thus  declare,  should  she  it  will,  yonder  lovely  Queen  Humây. 
Is  it  then  the  shining  moon  that  the  world  doth  silver  o'er. 
Or  the  radiance  of  thy  face  that  doth  earth  in  light  array  ? 
Did  the  caviller  dispute  and  thy  sun-bright  face  decry. 
Would  thy  lover,  like  the  mote,  to  that  fool  the  truth  convey. 
Lovers  surely  for  their  loves  do  their  talents  aye  employ; 
Is  it  thine  thy  tribute  now  to  present,  Shâhîn  Giray? 

Shâhln  Giray. 

THE    SONG   OF   LOVE'S    NURSE 

O  Moon  !  sleep,  sleep  thou,  for  this  night 
The  cry  "  O  Lord !  "  upon  thine  ear  shall  smite ; 
Though  formed,  its  purpose  is  yet  hid  from  sight. 
It  shall  be  seen — the  stars'  potential  might. 
Thou'lt  be  the  roast  upon  the  spit  of  pain ! 

O  Rosebud!  sleep  thou,  then,  this  little  while; 
The  Sphere's  design  against  thee  sooth  is  vile, 
For  pitiless  is  it  and  strong  in  guile; 
Ah!  never  trust  it,  even  though  it  smile. 
Thou'lt  have,  I  fear  me,  reason  oft  to  plain! 

O  Love's  Narcissus!  sleep  the  sleep  of  peace! 
Fall  at  the  skirt  of  Fate  and  beg  surcease; 
Thy  soul's  eye  ope — and,  lo!  thy  fears  increase! 
Guard  thee  against  the  end  of  woe,  nor  cease. 
Thou'lt  be  as  plaything  by  Misfortune  ta'en! 


142  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Come,  in  the  cradle  of  repose  thee  rest 
A  few  short  nights,  by  sorrow  undistrest; 
Bid  care  and  all  it  brings  leave  thee  imprest; 
In  place  of  milk,  blood  shall  be  thy  bequest. 
Thou'lt  need  the  goblet  of  despite  to  drain ! 

O  Jasmine-breast !  within  the  cradle  lie ; 
Thus  will  not  long  remain  the  rolling  Sky: 
The  stars  do  not  aye  in  one  circle  hie ; 
See  what  they'll  do  to  thee,  Love,  by  and  by. 
Thou'lt  be  the  mill  on  sorrow's  torrent's  train ! 

From  slumber  do  not  thou  thine  eyelids  keep, 
If  aid  can  reach  thee,  it  will  come  through  sleep; 
The  Sphere  will  give  a  draught  of  poison  deep, 
Then  will  thy  work,  like  Galib's,  be  to  weep. 
Thou'lt  be  the  rebec  at  the  feast  of  pain ! 

Gâlİb. 


LOVE'S    SONG 

Sweet  were  those  moments  when  the  heart  was  gay, 
And  the  soul's  realm,  the  court  of  joy's  array ; 
Thoughts  of  those  times  now  o'er  my  spirit  stray, 
For  love  of  God !     O  Heavens !  mercy !  pray ! 
The  pride  of  both  the  day  and  night  was  I. 

A  garden  fair  was  that  my  soul's  repose; 
Like  those  in  Eden's  bower,  its  every  rose; 
But  parting  comes  and  all  of  that  o'erthrows, 
Now  in  my  heart  naught  but  its  mem'ry  glows. 
With  honor's  wine  then  drunken  quite  was  I. 

Then  to  the  Sphere  I  never  uttered  prayer ; 
Feast,  music,  and  delight — all  mine — were  there ; 
Moved  ever  by  my  side  my  Cypress  fair ; 
Unopened  then  my  secret  and  despair. 
The  envy  of  the  springtide  bright  was  I. 


GAZEL  143 

Now  before  grief  and  woe  I'm  fallen  prone; 
Like  nightingale  in  early  spring,  I  moan. 
Through  fire  I've  past  and  to  the  shore  have  flown, 
And,  like  the  shattered  glass,  to  earth  am  thrown. 
Sipping  the  wine,  the  fair's  despite,  was  I. 

Ah  me!  alas!  those  happy  hours  are  past; 
The  spring  is  past;  the  rose,  the  flowers,  are  past; 
The  smiles  of  her  who  graced  the  bowers  are  past; 
The  thirsty  soul  remains,  the  showers  are  past. 
Drinking  with  her  the  wine  so  bright  was  I. 

I  with  my  loved  one  feast  and  banquet  made, 
Wild  as  the  whirlpool  then  I  romped  and  played; 
At  wine-feasts  I  myself  in  light  arrayed. 
And  with  my  songs  the  nightingales  dismayed. 
Like  Galib,  blest  with  all  delight  was  I. 

Gâlib. 


GAZEL 

The  mem'ry  of  his  glance  hid   in   my  breast   deep   laid   I 

found ; 
It    seemed    as    though    a    fawn    within    the    lion's    glade    I 

found. 
O  heart!  a  parallel  unto  those  eyebrows  and  that  glance, 
In   Rustem's    deadly   bow    and    Qahraman's    bright    blade    I 

found. 
When,  through  my  grieving  at  thine  absence,  dead  of  woe 

was  I, 
That    mem'ry    of    thy    rubies'    kiss    new    life    conveyed    I 

found. 
My  heart's  wound,  through  the  beauty  of  the  spring  of  love 

for  thee, 
By  turns,  rose,  tulip,  Judas-tree  of  crimson  shade,  I  found. 
Is't  strange,  O  Fitnet,  if  my  soul  around  do  scatter  gems? 
Within  the  ink-horn's  vault  a  hidden  treasure  laid  I  found. 

Fitnet  Khânim. 


144  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


MÜSEDDES 

The   fresh   spring   clouds   across    all   earth   their   glistening 

pearls  profuse  now  sow ; 
The  flowers,  too,  all  appearing,  forth  the  radiance  of  their 

beauty  show. 
Of  mirth  and  joy  'tis  now  the  time,  the  hour  to  wander  to 

and  fro ; 
The  palm-tree  o'er  the  fair  ones'  picnic  gay  its  grateful  shade 

doth  throw. 
O  Liege,  come  forth!  from  end  to  end  with  verdure  doth 

the  whole  earth  glow ; 
'Tis  springtide  now  again,  once  more  the  tulips  and  the  roses 

blow. 

Behold  the  roses,  how  they  shine,  e'en  like  the  cheeks  of  maids 
most  fair; 

The  fresh-sprung  hyacinth  shows  like  to  beauties'  dark,  sweet, 
musky  hair. 

The  loved  one's  form  behold,  like  cypress  which  the  stream- 
let's bank  doth  bear ; 

In  sooth,  each  side  for  soul  and  heart  doth  some  delightful 
joy  prepare. 
O  Liege,  come  forth!  from  end  to  end  with  verdure  doth 

the  whole  earth  glow ; 
'Tis  springtide  now  again,  once  more  the  tulips  and  the  roses 
blow. 

The  parterre's  flowers  have  all  bloomed  forth,  the  roses,  sweet- 
ly smiling,  shine ; 

On  every  side  lorn  nightingales,  in  plaintive  notes  discoursing, 
pine ; 

How  fair,  carnation  and  wallflower  the  borders  of  the  garden 
line! 

The  long-haired  hyacinth  and  jasmine  both  around  the  cypress 
twine. 
O  Liege,  come  forth !  from  end  to  end  with  verdure  doth 

the  whole  earth  glow ; 
'Tis  springtide  now  again,  once  more  the  tulips  and  the  roses 
blow. 


GAZEL 


145 


Arise,  my  Prince!  the  garden's  court  hath  wondrous  joys  in 
fair  array ; 

Oh,  hark,  there  midst  the  rose's  boughs,  the  waiHng  nightin- 
gale's fond  lay 

Thy  bright  cheek  show  the  new-oped  rose  and  make  it  blush 
with  shamed  dismay; 

With  graceful  air  come  then,  thy  cypress  mien  before  the  mead 
display. 
O  Liege,  come  forth!  from  end  to  end  with  verdure  doth 

the  whole  earth  glow ; 
'Tis  springtide  now  again,  once  more  the  tulips  and  the  roses 
blow. 

Enow!  thy  lovers  pain  no  more,  of  faithful  plight  the  days 

are  now ; 
On  streamlet's  banks,  of  mirth  and  joy  and  gay  delight  the 

days  are  now ; 
In  hand  then  take  the  heart's  dear  joy,  the  goblet  bright,  its 

days  are  now ; 
O  Fitnet,  come,  and  these  thy  verses  sweet  recite,  their  days 
are  now. 
O  Liege,  come  forth !  from  end  to  end  with  verdure  doth 

the  whole  earth  glow ; 
'Tis  springtide  now  again,  once  more  the  tulips  and  the  roses 
blow. 

'Fitnet  Khanim. 

GAZEL 

Ah  !  through  grief  for  thee  mine  eyes  blood,  every  night  and 

day,  weep ; 
Those  who  know  my  bitter  sorrow's  secret  pang  for  aye  weep. 
When  they  see  me  blood-besmeared  by  my  bosom's  red  wound, 
Pitying  my  doleful  plight,  the  garden's  flowerets  gay  weep. 
When  he  viewed  my  bleeding  heart,  ruth  had  yon  physician ; 
Quoth  he :    "  Doth  the  cure   for  thee.   Sick  of  love-dismay, 

weep." 
Yet  to  me  doth  yonder  Torment  of  the  Soul  no  grace  show; 
For  my  plight  do  all  my  friends,  who  me  thus  sick  survey, 

weep. 
10 


146  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

E'en  as  gazeth  on  thy  cheek,  amidst  his  woes,  Ilhâmî, 
Though  his  face  may  smiHng  be,  his  heart  doth  blood  alway 
weep. 


Ilhaml. 


GAZEL 


Midst  the  orchard  of  the  world  though  empire  may  appear 

delight, 
Still,  if  thou  wouldst  view  it  closely,  empire  is  but  ceaseless 

fight. 
Vain   let   no   one   be   who   ruleth   kingdoms   in   these   woful 

days; 
If  in  justice  lie  thy  pleasure — then  is  empire  truly  right. 
Reacheth  e'en  one  lover  union  in  the  space  of  thousand  years? 
Let  whoever  sees  it  envy — empire  is  of  faithless  plight. 
Think,  O  heart,  alas !  the  revolutions  of  the  rolling  Sphere ! 
If  at  times  'tis  joy,  far  oftener  empire  bringeth  dire  afifright. 
Do  not  envy,  do  not  covet,  then,  the  Kingship  of  the  world ; 
Oh!    take  heed,   Ilhâmî,   empire  bides   not,   swift  indeed   its 

flight. 

Ilhânil. 

GAZEL 

The  trees  and  flowers  their  turbans  roll  of  black  and  white 

and  red ; 
The  garden  fastens  on  its  stole  of  black  and  white  and  red. 
With  sable  eve  and  ermine  dawn  and  fez  of  sunset  bright, 
The  sky  doth  all  its  pomp  unroll  of  black  and  white  and  red. 
The  pupils  of  my  eyes  are  points  upon  the  gleaming  page, 
With  tears  of  blood  I've  writ  a  scroll  of  black  and  white  and 

red. 
The  youthful  Magian's  locks  and  breast  were  shadowed  in  the 

wine; 
It  seemed  as  though  they  filled  the  bowl  with  black  and  white 

and  red. 
Is't  ambergris,  or  is  it  pearl,  or  coral,  Fâzil,  say. 
This  poesy  thy  reed  doth  troll,  of  black  and  white  and  red? 

Fa  sil  Beg. 


DESCRIPTION   OF   GREEK   WOMEN  147 


DESCRIPTION    OF   CIRCASSIAN    WOMEN 

Ah  !  her  cheek  doth  rob  the  fair  sun  of  its  sight, 
And  her  sweet  grace  envy  brings  to  Venus  bright. 
Like  to  moons  are  the  Circassian  damsels  fair ; 
Whatso'er  the  lover  seeks  he  findeth  there. 
Like  to  tall  palm-trees  their  slender  forms  in  grace, 
Or  a  ladder  to  the  clear  moon  of  the  face. 
With  the  two  feet  of  the  eyes  doth  one  ascend, 
But  the  vision  of  the  mind  too  one  must  bend. 
Since  their  lips  and  cheeks  are  taverns  of  wine, 
Is  it  strange  their  eyes  inebriate  should  shine? 
Since  like  rubies  are  created  their  two  lips, 
Doubly  seared  the  lover's  heart,  like  the  tulip's. 
Since  their  bodies  are  distilled  from  moon  and  sun, 
How  an  equal  to  their  pure  frame  find  can  one  ? 
Though  they  lovelier  than  Georgians  may  be. 
Still  in  Georgians  one  will  great  attractions  see. 
Closely  curtained  sit  they  all  in  virtue's  place ; 
Pure  of  skirt  is  ever  this  unrivalled  race ; 
Pure  and  free  from  stain  is  every  act  of  theirs; 
Not  a  soil  the  vestment  of  their  honor  bears ; 
Marked  with  chastity  indeed,  of  noble  heart, 
Ever  seeking  to  fulfil  the  righteous  part ; 
Bright  with  bounty  and  fidelity  and  sense. 
How  that  blessed  nature  glows  with  light  intense! 
Think  not  with  this  race  that  any  can  compare 
Upon  earth,  unless  it  be  the  Georgian  fair. 

Fadl  Beg. 


DESCRIPTION    OF   GREEK   WOMEN 

Oh  !  thou  the  Bell  upon  the  church  of  pain ! 

Thou  the  Pride  of  all  the  Messianic  train ! 

Source  of  being!  if  a  mistress  thou  should  seek. 

Then,  I  pray  thee,  let  thy  loved  one  be  a  Greek. 

Unto  her  the  fancies  of  the  joyous  bend. 

For  there's  leave  to  woo  the  Grecian  girl,  my  friend. 


148  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Caskets  of  coquetry  are  the  Grecian  maids, 

And  their  grace  the  rest  of  womankind  degrades. 

What  that  slender  waist  so  dehcate  and  sHght! 

What  those  gentle  words  the  sweet  tongue  doth  indite! 

What  those  blandishments,  that  heart-attracting  talk! 

What  that  elegance,  that  heart-attracting  walk! 

What  that  figure,  as  the  cypress  tall  and  free — 

In  the  park  of  God's  creation  a  young  tree ! 

What  those  attitudes,  those  motions,  wondrous  fair! 

What  that  glance  inebriate  that  showeth  there ! 

Given  those  disdainful  airs  to  her  alone, 

And  her  legacy  that  accent  and  that  tone. 

All  those  letters  on  her  sweet  tongue's  tip  are  rolled, 

And  those  words  with  many  graces  she'll  unfold ; 

Strung  the  regal  pearls  of  her  enchanting  speech, 

Pounded  seem  they  when  her  gentle  mouth  they  reach; 

To  her  tongue  if  come  a  letter  harsh  to  say. 

Then  her  sweet  mouth  causeth  it  to  melt  away ; 

Her  mouth  would  fain  the  words  conserve  in  sooth. 

For  her  mouth  is  speech-conserves  in  very  truth; 

Speaking  parrots  are  they  surely  one  and  all. 

To  their  portion  doth  the  birdies'  language  fall. 

With  a  thousand  graces  saith  her  rosebud  lip : 

"  Zee  vine,  O  noble  Lord,  vill  zou  no  sip ; 

When  thy  glass  is  empty,  fill  it  full  again. 

To  my  love  drink,  O  my  Pacha,  drink  amain !  " 

To  the  soul  add  life  her  ways  and  charms  so  dear, 

Surely  thus  is  it  a  mistress  should  appear. 

E'en  the  old  misogynist  would  conquered  be. 

Saw  he  yonder  maid,  uxorious  were  he. 

So  symmetrical  the  line  her  body  shows. 

One  would  it  a  balanced  hemistich  suppose. 

Other  women  seek  to  imitate  her  grace. 

As  their  pride  and  frontispiece  she  holds  her  place. 

What  that  figure  tall,  and  what  that  graceful  mien! 

Fair-proportioned  is  her  body  ever  seen. 

Moving  lithely,  she  from  side  to  side  will  turn. 

That  the  hearts  of  all  her  lovers  she  may  burn. 

That  cap  which  on  one  side  she  gayly  wears ; 

That  jaunty  step;  those  joyous  heedless  airs; 


ON  THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE  FRENCH  IN  EGYPT  149 

Those  motions — they  are  just  what  me  deHght; 
And  her  tripping  on  two  toes — how  fair  a  sight ! 
'Twere  as  though  with  fire  her  pathway  were  inlaid, 
That  would  burn  the  feet  of  yonder  moon-like  maid. 
Thou  wouldst  deem  her  lovers'  hearts  upon  her  way, 
Burning  with  their  love  for  her,  all  scattered  lay. 

Is't  herself  they  call  "  Qoqona  "  let  us  see? 

Or  her  locks? — how  wondrous  sweet  their  odors  be! 

As  the  sash  trails  on  the  ground  beneath  thy  feet. 

So  will  she  thy  feet  salute  with  kisses  sweet. 

Misbeliever,  thou  dost  sense  steal  from  the  heart ; 

Torment  thou — I  know  not  what  a  Woe  thou  art; 

Know  not  I  if  thou  be  hurl  or  pen, 

Know  not  I  of  Mary  what  is  found  in  thee ; 

Art  thou  Mary's,  child  of  Tmran's,  rosebud  bright? 

Of  the  dwelling  of  the  monks  art  thou  the  light? 

Envy  bearing  to  her  hinna-crimsoned  hand, 

Doth  the  red  egg  covered  o'er  with  blushes  stand. 

With  the  Greek  cannot  thy  genus  e'er  compare. 

Deem  I,  be  thou  genius  or  hflri  fair! 

Fusil  Beg. 


ON  THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE  FRENCH  IN  EGYPT 
BY  THE  QAPUDAN  HUSEYN  PACHA 

O  THOU  Nirem,  battle-waging,  of  the  world's  fierce  field  of 

fight ! 
O  thou  Sam,  fell  dragon-visaged,  of  the  age's  plain  of  might ! 
Thou  art  he  in  whom  the  favors  of  the  Lord  Most  High  unite ; 
Earth  and  ocean  thou  hast  conquered,  waging  war  on  left 

and  right! 
Gold,  in  Islam's  cause,  thou  pouredst  like  to  water  down  a 

height ; 
Legions  like  the  Nile  on  Egypt's  shore  thou  madest  to  alight. 
With  thy  sabre's  blow  right  fiercely  thou  the  foeman's  head 

didst  smite ; 
Giddy    made    thy    sword    the    misbelievers'    chieftains    with 

affright. 


i^o  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Midst  the  earth's   oak-grove   a  vaHant   lion  Hke  to  thee   in 

might, 
Since  the  days  of  Rustem,  ne'er  hath  passed  beneath  the  Heav- 
ens' sight. 
"  Bravo !  Champion  of  the  Epoch !  rending  ranks   in   ser- 
ried fight! 
O'er  the   'Arsh   hang  now  thy   sabre,    sparkling   like   the 
Pleiads  bright !  " 

Lion !  Alexander !  had  he  seen  that  battle  thou  didst  gain, 

Crown  and  throne  to  thee  to  offer  Key-Qubad  were  surely 
fain ! 

O  most  noble !  thou  a  Vezir  to  such  fame  that  dost  attain, 

That  the  God  of  Hosts  did  surely  Lord  of  Fortune  thee  or- 
dain! 

Like  to  flame,  the  fiery  blast  scathed  foemen's  lives,  it  blazed 
amain ; 

Threw'st  thou,  cinder-like,  the   misbelievers'   ashes   o'er  the 
plain. 

"  Conqueror  of  the  Nations'  Mother  "  as  thy  title  should  be 
ta'en ; 

Since  thou'st  saved  the  Nations'  Mother,  all  the  nations  joy 
again. 

Wishing  long  ago,  'twould  seem,  to  sing  thy  splendid  glory's 
strain, 

Nef'i  wrote  for  thee  this   couplet — for  thy   deeds   a  fit   re- 
frain : 
"  Bravo !  Champion  of  the  Epoch !  rending  ranks  in  ser- 
ried fight! 
O'er  the   'Arsh   hang  now   thy   sabre,   sparkling   like   the 
Pleiads  brisrht !  " 


^&' 


When  the  misbelieving  Frenchman  sudden  swooped  on  Egypt's 
land, 

Thither  was  the  army's  leader  sent  by  the  Great  King's  com- 
mand ; 

But  at  length  o'erthrown  and  vanquished  by  the  foe  his  luck- 
less band, 

Then  thou  wentest  and  the  vile  foe  scatter'dst  wide  on  every 
hand; 


ON  THE  DEFEAT  OF  THE  FRENCH  IN  EGYPT  151 

Then,  when  they  thy  Hghtning-flashing,  life-consuming  cannon 
scanned, 

Knew  the  hell-doomed  misbelievers  vain  were  all  things  they 
had  planned. 

Hundred    vezirs,    joy-attended,    countless    foemen    did    with- 
stand ; 

Day  and  night,  three  years  the  misbelievers  fought  they  brand 
to  brand ; 

Worn  and  wretched  fell  those  at  thy  feet,  and  quarter  did 
demand : 

It  beseems  thee,  howsoever  high  in  glory  thou  mayst  stand ! 
"  Bravo !  Champion  of  the  Epoch !  rending  ranks  in  ser- 
ried fight! 
O'er  the   'Arsh   hang  now  thy   sabre,   sparkling   like   the 
Pleiads  bright !  " 

Through  this  joy  beneath  thy  shade  the  world  doth  its  desires 
behold ; 

With  thy  praises  eloquent  the  tongues  of  all,  both  young  and 
old. 

Thou    to    Faith    and    Empire    then    didst    render    services 
untold 

Hurling  down  to  earth  the  foeman's  house  in  one  assault  right 
bold! 

O  Vezir!    Jem-high!  think  not  that  flattery  my  words  en- 
fold; 

Though  a  poet,  not  with  false  or  vaunting  boasts  I've  thee 
extolled. 

Midst  the  fight  for  Egypt's  conquest  firm  in  stirrup  was  thy 
hold, 

Under  thy  Egyptian   charger  trod'st   thou   foemen   like   the 
mould. 

From  the  handle  of  thy  sword,  like  water,  down  the  red  blood 
rolled ; 

Thou  the  foe  mad'st  turn  his  face,  mill-like,  in  terror  uncon- 
trolled. 
"  Bravo !  Champion  of  the  Epoch !  rending  ranks  in  ser- 
ried fight ! 
O'er  the   'Arsh   hang  now   thy   sabre,   sparkling   like   the 
Pleiads  bright !  " 


1^2  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

Those  who  sing  thy  glories,  Hke  to  Wasif,  wildered  aye  must 

be; 
Sayeth  Wasif :    "  None  on  earth  Hke  Huseyn  Pacha  I  shall 

see." 
If  there  be  who  has  in  vision  seen  a  peerless  one  like  thee, 
As  a  dream  all  void  of  meaning,  let  him  it  relate  to  me. 
Cannon-ball  like,  'gainst  the  foe  thou  threw'st  thyself  from 

terror  free; 
Like  the  winter  blast  thou  mad'st  the  foeman  shake  in  front 

of  thee. 
Claim  to  manliness  forsaking,  even  as  the  blind  was  he, 
Sword  in  hand  despairing  stood  he,  like  to  one  who  naught  can 

see; 
Quick  his  throat  thou  seizedst,  like  the  dragon  direful  in  his 

glee, 
'Neath  thy  sabre's  wave  thou  drown'dst  the  misbeliever,  like 

the  sea ! 
"  Bravo !  Champion  of  the  Epoch !  rending  ranks  in  ser- 
ried fight! 
O'er   the  'Arsh   hang  now   thy   sabre,   sparkling   like   the 

Pleiads  bright!"  ^.^.^^ 

SHARQI 

O  Rosebud  of  joy's  flowery  lea! 
O  graceful  one  with  step  so  free! 
If  thou  wilt  yield  thee  not  to  me, 

On  earth  the  glass  of  mirth  and  glee 

To  me's  forbid,  apart  from  thee. 

Behold  my  breast,  by  guile  unprest, 
Is't  not  mid  thousand  treasures  best? 
Until  thou  tak'st  me  to  thy  breast. 

On  earth  the  glass  of  mirth  and  glee 

To  me's  forbid,  apart  from  thee. 

O  Rose-leaf  fresh !  concealed  from  sight 
With  thee  till  morn  a  livelong  night 
If  I  may  not  enjoy  delight, 

On  earth  the  glass  of  mirth  and  glee 

To  me's  forbid,  apart  from  thee. 


SHARQI  153 

Yearning  for  union  fills  my  soul, 
Patience  and  peace  have  no  control ; 
O  wanton  one !  my  longing's  goal ! 

On  earth  the  glass  of  mirth  and  glee 

To  me's  forbid,  apart  from  thee. 

Seek,  Wasif,  her  who  hearts  doth  snare 
Yon  maid  with  bosom  silver-fair; 
Until  thou  thither  dost  repair, 

On  earth  the  glass  of  mirth  and  glee 

To  me's  forbid,  apart  from  thee. 

Wasif. 


SHARQI 

To  whom  that  wine-red  ruby's  shown 
Is  captive  by  those  locks  o'erthrown; 
'Tis  meet  like  nightingale  I  moan : 
A  lovely  Scio  Rose  is  blown. 

Unmatched  yon  maid  with  waist  so  spare, 
Unrivalled  too  her  wanton  air ; 
Her  ways  than  e'en  herself  more  fair : 
A  lovely  Scio  Rose  is  blown. 

The  roses  like  her  cheeks  are  few ; 
That  rose — blush-pink  its  darling  hue ; 
This  summer  ere  the  roses  blew, 
A  lovely  Scio  Rose  is  blown. 

The  rose — the  nightingale's  amaze; 
The  rose  the  nightingale  dismays ; 
A  smile  of  hers  the  world  outweighs : 
A  lovely  Scio  Rose  is  blown. 

O  Wasif,  on  the  rosy  lea, 
The  nightingale  thus  spake  to  me: 
"  Be  joyful  tidings  now  to  thee — 
A  lovely  Scio  Rose  is  blown." 

Wasif. 


154  OTTOMAN    POEMS 

GAZEL 

Although  my  heart  the  truth  of  Those  who  wrong  them- 
selves doth  show,  O  Lord ! 
In  virtue  of  the  words  Do  not  despair,  Thy  love  bestow,  O 

Lord! 
Beside  the  mead  of  truth  and  calm  make  aye  my  soul  to  go, 

O  Lord ! 
My  virtue's  rose  to  tint  and  scent  as  captive  do  not  throw,  O 

Lord! 
From  vain  attachments'  stain  wash  pure  and  clean  my  heart 

as  snow,  O  Lord! 
Against  me  place  not  Thou  the  loathsome  pool  of  lies  of  foe, 

O  Lord ! 
The  burning  pain  of  exile  no  relief  can  ever  know,  O  Lord! 
Enow,  if  Thou  the  camphor-salve,  the  dawn  of  hope,   did 

show,  O  Lord ! 
Thy  slave  is  Râmiz ;  unto  none  save  Thee  doth  he  bend  low, 

O  Lord ! 
Before  Thy  mercy's  gate  his  tears  from  eyes  and  eyelids  flow, 

O  Lord ! 

Rmnis  Pacha. 

GAZEL 

After  old  rags  longing  hath  the  figure  tall  and  slight  of 
Love? 

Fresh  and  fresh  renews  itself  aye  the  brocade  fire-bright  of 
Love. 

'Gainst  the  flames  from  thorns  and  thistles  ne'er  a  curtain  can 
be  wove, 

Nor  'neath  honor's  veil  can  hide  the  public  shame,  the  blight 
of  Love. 

Through  a  needle's  eye  it  sometimes  vieweth  far-off  Hindu- 
stan— 

Blind  anon  in  its  own  country  is  the  piercing  sight  of  Love. 

It  will  turn  it  to  a  ruin  where  naught  save  the  owl  may  dwell, 

In  a  home  should  chance  be  set  the  erring  foot  of  plight  of 
Love. 


GAZEL 


155 


Will  a  single  spark  a  hundred  thousand  homes  consume  at 

times : 
One  to  me  are  both  the  highest  and  the  lowest  site  of  Love. 
Never  saw  I  one  who  knoweth — O  most  ignorant  am  I ! 
Yet  doth  each  one  vainly  deem  himself  a  learned  wight  in 

Love. 
Rent  and  shattered — laid  in  ruins — all  my  caution's  fortress 

vast 
Have  my  evil  Fate,  my  heart's  black  grain,  the  rage,  the  blight 

of  Love. 
In  its  hell  alike  it  tortures  Mussulman  and  infidel, 
'Izzet,  is  there  chance  of  freedom  from  its  pangs,  this  plight 

of  Love? 
Of  reality  hath  made  aware  the  seeker  after  Truth, 
Showing  lessons  metaphoric,  He,  the  Teacher  bright,  St.  Love ! 

'Izzet  Molla. 

GAZEL 

That  I'm  fall'n  her  conquered  slave,  yon  maiden  bright  feigns 

not  to  know ; 
Thus  pretending,  she  who  doth  the  soul  despite  feigns  not  to 

know. 
Though  I  fail  naught  in  her  service,  she  doth  me  as  alien  treat ; 
Know  not  I  why  yonder  Darling,  earth's  Delight,  feigns  not 

to  know. 
If  I  dare  to  speak  my  eager  longing  those  her  lips  to  kiss, 
Friendship  she  disclaims,  in  sooth  with  cruel  slight  feigns  not 

to  know. 
That  she  whets  her  glance's  arrow  and  therewith  doth  pierce 

the  heart. 
E'en  her  bow-like  eyebrow,  yonder  Ban  of  might  feigns  not 

to  know. 
Well  the  loved  one  knows  the  Sphere  doth  keep  no  faithful 

troth;  but,  ah! 
How  she  copies  it,  that  Heart-ensnarer  bright  feigns  not  to 

know. 
There  is  ne'er  a  refuge,  'Adli,  from  the  grief  of  rivals'  taunts ; 
I  my  love  conceal  not,  still  yon  maiden  slight  feigns  not  to 

know.  'Adit. 


156  OTTOMAN   POEMS 


ON   THE   DEATH    OF   'ANDELÎB    KHÂNIM 

'Andelib,  th'  adopted  sister,  from  this  transient  world  hath 

flown, 
Yonder  midst  the  flowers  of  Eden  while  still  in  her  youth  to 

stray. 
No  physician,  neither  charmer,  on  the  earth  her  pain  could 

ease; 
So  that  youthful  beauty  bided  not  to  smile  on  earth's  mead 

gay. 
With  her  two-and-twenty  summers,  cypress-like  was  she,  ah 

me! 
But  the  sullen  blast  of  autumn  smote  her  life's  bright,  lovely 

May. 
For  its  tyranny  and  rancor  might  have  blushed  the  vile,  hard 

Sphere, 
As   the   sister   of   earth's    Monarch   pined    in   grief    without 

allay. 
Though  her  kind  friend  never  parted  from  her  eye's  sweet, 

gentle  beam, 
Still  did  she  to  God  her  soul  yield,  and    the  call,  Return, 

obey. 
Down  the  wayward  Sphere  hath  stricken  that  bright  Jewel  to 

the  earth ; 
What  avail  though  men  and  angels  tears  of  blood  shed  in 

dismay  ? 
Length  of  days  to  that  great  Sultan  grant  may  He,  the  God 

of  Truth ! 
And  yon  fair  Pearl's  tomb  make  rival  His  own  Eden's  bright 

display ! 
With  the  dotted  letters,  Leylâ,  thou  the  year  tell'st  of  her 

death — 
Calm  among  delightsome  bowers   may   'Andelib  her  nest 


array ! 


Leylâ  Khânim. 


TAKHMÎS  157 


TAKHMÎS 

'Tıs  yonder  Darling  of  my  soul  that  wildering  my  sense  o'er- 
throws ; 

My  waving  Cypress  'tis  that  freshness  to  the  garden  doth  dis- 
close ; 

The  bird,  my  heart,  my  gardener  is  in  Love's  fair  parterre  of 
the  rose : 
Mine  eyes'  field  with  thy  cheek's  reflection  as  my  flowery 

orchard  shows ; 
For  long  my  heart  the  picture  of  thy  palm-like  figure  doth 
enclose. 

The  world  seems  in  my  eyes  as  prison  that  doth  my  dear  love 

control ; 
Through  love  for  thee  my  heart  acquireth  many  a  scar,  and 

that's  the  whole ; 
From  hour  to  hour  thine  absence  makes  my  tears  like  rushing 

waters  roll : 
The  heart  bows  down  through  grief  for  thee,  and  constant 

weeps  the  life,  the  soul ; 
The  fountain  of  this  vineyard  is  the  stream  that  from  my 

weeping  flows. 

As  well  thou  know'st,  through  fire  of  love  for  thee  how  sad 
my  plight  of  woe, 

My  smiling  Rosebud,  wilt  thou  ne'er  a  glance  of  pity  toward 
me  throw  ? 

My  sighs  and  wailings  thou  dost  see.  Oh,  but  for  once  compas- 
sion show: 
Through  gazing  on  the  rose  and  bower,  my  heart  repose 

shall  never  know, 
The  ward  where  doth  my  loved  one  dwell  alone  can  yield 
my  soul  repose. 

Oh,  how  I  think  upon  thy  box-tree  form  in  sorrow's  night  so 

drear ! 
My  story  would  Me j nun's  and  Ferhâd's  tales  from  mind  make 

disappear. 


158  OTTOMAN   POEMS 

My  groans  and  sighs  and  wails  thus  high  do  I  unto  the  Heav- 
ens uprear, 

By  reason  of  the  sparks  my  sighings  raise  that  steely  bowl, 
the  Sphere, 

Revolves  each  night,  my  gold-enamelled  beaker  at  the  feast 
of  woes. 

From  thought  of  yonder  witching  eye  my  heart  is  ne'er  a  mo- 
ment free ; 
When  flow  thy  tears  recall  not  thou  to  mind,  O  Leylâ,  'Oman's 

Sea. 
Beneath  thy  shade  my  own  heart's  blood  is  all  that  hath  been 
gained  by  me : 
My  tears,  an  ocean  vast ;  my  lashes,  coral  branches,  O  Baqi ! 
The  mem'ry,  'tis  of  thy  palm-form  that  as  my  Judas-tree 
bright  glows.  ^^yi^  Khanim. 

SHARQi 

Our  hopes,  our  thoughts,  are  for  the  weal  of  our  dear  native 

land; 
Our  bodies  form  the  rampart  strong  to  guard  our  frontier 

strand : 
We're  Ottomans — a  gory  shroud  our  robe  of  honor  grand. 
"  God  is  Most  Great !  "  we  shout  in  rush  and  charge  on  field 

of  fight ; 
We're   Ottomans !    our   lives   we   give,   our   gain   is   glory 
bright. 

The  name  of  Ottoman  with  terror  doth  the  hearer  thrill ; 
The  glories  of  our  valiant  fathers  all  the  wide  world  fill ; 
Think  not  that  nature  changeth — nay,  this  blood  is  yon  blood 
still. 
"  God  is  Most  Great !  "  we  shout  in  rush  and  charge  on  field 

of  fight ; 
We're   Ottomans!    our   lives   we   give,   our   gain   is   glory 
bright. 

A  sabre  on  a  blood-red  field — our  banner  famed  behold ! 
Fear  in  our  country  dwelleth  not,  in  mountain  or  in  wold : 
In  every  corner  of  our  land  croucheth  a  lion  bold. 


GAZEL  159 

"  God  is  Most  Great !  "  we  shout  in  rush  and  charge  on  field 

of  fight ; 
We're   Ottomans !    our   Hves   we   give,   our   gain   is   glory 

bright. 

Then  let  the  cannon  roar,  and  shower  its  flames  on  every  side ! 

For  those  our  brothers  brave  let  Heaven  ope  its  portals  wide ! 

What  have  we  found  on  earth  that  one  from  death  should  flee 

or  hide  ? 

"  God  is  Most  Great !  "  we  shout  in  rush  and  charge  on  field 

of  fight ; 
We're   Ottomans !    our   lives   we   give,   our   gain   is   glory 
bright.  Refet  Beg. 

GAZEL 

A  TAVERN  which  each  moment  takes  a  life  as  pleasure's  pay  is 

earth ; 
A  glass  which  for  a  thousand  souls  doth  sell  each  drop  of 

spray  is  earth. 
The  world's  a  Magian  that  adores  the  flame  of  power  and 

fortune  high ; 
If  thou  should  brightly  shine,  a  moth  about  thy  taper's  ray  is 

earth. 
Anon  one  is,  anon  is  not — thus  ever  runs  the  course  of  time; 
From  end  to  end  a  warning-fraught,  a  strange,  romantic  lay 

is  earth, 
'Twixt  sense  and  frenzy  'tis  indeed  right  hard  to  draw  the 

sund'ring  line, 
Ah   me!  if   understanding's   wise,   demented   sooth   alway   is 

earth. 
The  desolation  of  the  world  beside  its  weal  is  truth  itself; 
Just  as  prosperity  it  seems,  so  ruin  and  decay  is  earth. 
How  many  Khusrevs  and  Jemshids  have  come,  and  from  its 

bower  have  passed ! 
A  theatre  that  vieweth  many  and  many  an  act  and  play  is 

earth. 
Ziya,  a  thousand  caravans  of  wise  men  through  its  realms 

have  passed ; 
But  yet  not  one  can  tell  its  tale,  and  all  unknown  this  day  is 

earth.  Ziya  Beg. 


j6o  ottoman  poems 


ON   A   BEYT   OF    MAHMÜD    NEDÎM    PACHA 

Heart  !  heart !  how  long  shall  last  this  sorrow,  anguish,  and 
dismay  ? 

All    things    upon    earth's    ruin-cumbered    waste    must    needs 
decay. 

What  was  the  splendor  of  Jemshid  ?  where  Khusrev  and  where 
Key? 

Hold    fast   the    goblet    and   the    wine,    let    chance    not    fleet 
away! 
"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 
Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 

Be  he  Khusrev,  or  Rustem,  or  Neriman,  or  Jemshîd, 

Or  be  he  beggar ;  be  Islam  or  heathenesse  his  creed ; 

A   few   days   in   earth's   inn   a   guest   is   he,   then   must   he 

speed : 
Something  to  render  gay  that  time  is  surely  wisdom's  need. 
"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 
Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 

When  viewed  with  understanding's  eye,  the  mote  hath  no 

repose ; 
The  world  must  thus  be  imaged  for  exemption  from  its  woes : 
Of  my  coming  and  my  going  it  no  lasting  picture  shows — 
That  a  departure  surely  is  which  no  returning  knows. 

"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 
Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 

Events  the  workings  of  the  Lord  Most  High  make  manifest ; 
Being  the  mirror  is  in  which  the  Absolute's  exprest ; 
He  who  this  mystery  perceives  in  every  state  is  blest ; 
The  exit  of  each  one  who  enters  earth  decreed  doth  rest. 

"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 

Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 


ON   A   BEYT   OF   MAHMUD   NEDIM    PACHA  i6i 

See  that  thou  grievest  not  thyself  with  sorrows  all  unvvise ; 
'Tis  need  all  pleasure  to  enjoy  as  far  as  in  thee  lies ; 
Alike  is  he  who  lives  in  joy  and  he  whom  trouble  tries ; 
If  thou  be  prudent,  ne'er  thine  opportunities  despise, 

"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 

Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 

Since  first  the  banquet  fair,  this  world,  was  cast  in  form's  de- 
signs. 
How  many  rakes  have  passed  away !  how  many  libertines ! 
As  counsel  meet  for  revellers,  when  he  perceived  those  signs. 
Around  the  goblet's  rim  the  Magian  priest  engraved  these 
lines : 
"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 
Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 

At  length.  Ziya,  shall  joy  beam  forth,  and  grief  an  end  shall 

find ; 
But  yet,  O  man,  these  ever  enter  Fortune's  feast  combined. 
This  hidden  mystery  learn  thou,  by  Mahmûd  Beg  defined. 
Who  has  the  secret  of  the  same  within  this  verse  enshrined : 
"  Our  coming  to  this  world  is  one ;  man  must  reflect,  sur- 
vey; 
Care  must  one  banish,  and  look  out  for  calm  and  quiet  aye." 

Ziya  Beg. 


II 


I 


THE  COUNSELS  OF  NABI  EFENDİ 
TO  HIS  SON  ABOUL  KHAIR 

[Translated  by  A.  P.  de  Courteille  and  Robert  Arnot] 


1.1 


CHOICE   EXAMPLES   OF  PALEOGRAPHY. 

Fac-similes  from  Rare  and  Curious  Manuscripts  of 
Oriental  Countries. 


FROM  A   FIRMAN  OF  SULTAN  SOLOMON. 

Turkish  mamtscript  of  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

This  example  of  Turkish  script  may  be  said  to  belong  to  the  style  affected  by 
the  notaries  and  diplomats  of  its  era.  The  monogram  at  the  head  is  the  "  though- 
ra,"  the  official  signature  of  the  Sultan,  which  precedes  and  ends  all  official  docu- 
ments. Turkish  script  is  founded,  like  its  alphabet,  upon  Arabic  models,  and  in 
consequence  has  as  many  modes  as  its  grammar  has  systems.  The  script  repro- 
duced here  is  in  the  mode  called  "  diwani,"  and  is  a  superb  specimen  of  the  style. 
It  is  from  a  firman  of  Sultan  Solomon,  surnamed  "  The  Lawgiver." 


J  J ,  -^     J  » 


1 


' 


INTRODUCTION 

NABI  YOUSOUF  EFENDİ  was  born  at  Roha,  about 
the  year  1632,  during  the  reign  of  Mourad  IV. 
Coming  to  Constantinople  in  the  time  of  Mahomet 
IV,  he  there  attached  himself  to  the  all-powerful  favorite  Mus- 
tafa Pacha,  who  made  him  his  secretary.  In  1684,  his  protector 
having  been  made  Serasker,  he  accompanied  him  to  Moree. 
From  there,  he  undertook  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  and  to 
Medina,  and  finally  settled  at  Halep.  It  was  during  his  stay 
in  this  city,  about  the  year  1694,  that  he  wrote,  as  he  himself 
says,  the  poem  dedicated  to  his  son  Aboul  Khair.  Some  years 
after,  Baltadji  Mohammed  Pacha,  who  was  much  attached  to 
Nabi,  recalled  him  to  Constantinople,  and  appointed  him 
president  of  the  State  treasury  of  Anatolia.  He  exchanged  this 
position,  however,  for  that  of  comptroller  of  the  cavalry,  in 
which  he  remained  until  his  death,  which  occurred  the  twelfth 
of  April,  1712. 

Nabi  is  one  of  the  Turkish  classic  authors ;  he  occupies  in 
Ottoman  literature  an  exalted  position,  not  only  as  a  poet,  but 
also  as  a  prose  writer.  Under  the  title  of  Zeili  Nabi,  he  wrote 
in  the  purest  and  most  stately  style  an  appendix  to  the  "  Life 
of  Mahomet,"  by  We'isi ;  this  work  was  printed  in  Cairo  in 
1248.  The  imperial  library  has  a  copy  of  the  complete  works 
of  Nabi.  The  manuscript  is  well  written,  but  is  filled  with  cler- 
ical errors.  Beside  the  poems,  it  contains  the  letters  of  Nabi  and 
his  treatise  on  Mecca  and  Medina.  The  divan  of  our  author 
is  of  considerable  length ;  therein  are  found  kassides,  chrono- 
grams, gazels,  and  two  poems  written  for  his  son :  the  "  Khai- 
riye  "  and  the  "  Khair-abâd."  This  divan  was  written  at  Cairo 
in  1257. 

The  manuscript  which  has  been  used  to  verify  the  text  was 
obtained  from  a  learned  teacher  named  Chinaci  Efendi.     The 

165 


i66  NABI   efendi 

translator  has  also  referred,  although  with  reserve,  to  the  manu- 
script of  the  Imperial  Library.  The  Cairo  edition  has  not  been 
very  useful ;  it  includes  many  readings,  which  are  doubtful  at 
best,  and  which  have  not  been  thought  sufficiently  important  to 
note. 

Those  who  have  translated  oriental  poems  know  how  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  remain  exact  without  becoming  unintelligible.  The 
translator  has  endeavored  to  condense  the  text  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, and  has  only  departed  from  it  insomuch  as  was  neces- 
sary in  order  to  make  it  intelligible.  There  is  an  obscure 
vagueness  in  Turkish  poetry  which  passes  for  a  kind  of  beauty 
in  oriental  eyes.  The  reader's  imagination  loves  to  wander 
among  these  brilliant  clouds ;  but  the  translator,  forced  to  ex- 
press himself  clearly  and  openly,  suffers  much  from  this  ele- 
ment of  uncertainty. 

The  translator's  aim  has  been,  above  all,  to  provide  for  per- 
sons who  are  studying  the  Turkish  language  a  work  of  a  sim- 
ple and  elegant  classic  style  and  of  moderate  price,  which  will 
be  a  preparation  for  the  reading  of  more  difficult  writings. 


THE  COUNSELS  OFNABI  EFENDİ 


CHAPTER    I 

ALL  praise  to  the  Most  High  God,  Creator  of  all  that 
exists ;  who  with  his  all-powerful  pen  has  traced  the 
characters  of  the  world.  Benign  Lord,  whose  mercy 
is  stretched  forth  over  all  men,  whose  benevolent  hand  has 
graven  the  image  of  existence  on  the  tablet  of  the  vow,  from 
that  void  which,  like  a  funeral  mound,  opened  and  disclosed 
its  secrets.  The  Lord  weighed  in  the  balance  of  destiny  chaos 
and  existence ;  the  aspect  of  existence  became  brilliant,  and 
its  forms  were  reflected  in  the  mirror  of  chaos,  whose  burning 
gulf  disappeared,  and  the  veil  which  concealed  the  world  was 
raised.  Land  was  extended  like  a  mantle  over  the  world,  and 
above  was  curved  the  celestial  dome.  The  four  elements  and 
heaven  became  as  a  festal  cup  adorned  with  four  roses.  The 
Lord,  uniting  the  two  sexes,  lit  between  them  the  torch  of  love. 
Then  appeared  the  three  reigns  of  nature :  the  mineral,  the 
vegetable,  and  the  animal.  The  inexhaustible  munificence  of 
the  Almighty  continued ;  next  came  the  creation  of  man.  God 
placed  him  above  all  living  beings ;  formed  from  the  slime  of 
the  earth,  he  was  the  noblest,  the  most  perfect  of  all  creatures. 
Although  he  had  been  moulded  of  earth  and  mud,  the  angels 
were  ordered  to  bow  down  before  him  ;  the  ladder  of  the  divine 
decisions  having  been  placed,  man  ascended  to  the  first  place  I'n 
creation. 

In  all  things  there  are  dififerent  degrees,  distinctions,  and 
divisions,  everything  has  different  properties  ;  nature  has  diver- 
sified all  things,  all  men  form  quite  distinct  classes,  and  from 
these  distinctions  issues  perfect  order.  Without  them,  the  edi- 
fice of  creation  would  be  demolished ;  but  how  can  the  ignorant 

167 


i68  NABI   efendi 

understand  the  mysteries  therein?  Water  cannot  have  all  the 
properties  of  fire ;  earth  cannot  produce  the  effects  of  wind. 
Gold  is  impotent  to  replace  iron ;  sugar  will  never  have  the 
flavor  of  salt.  The  foot  does  not  play  the  same  röle  as  the 
hand ;  the  lancet  does  not  serve  the  purposes  of  the  sword. 
Hearing  cannot  take  the  place  of  sight;  the  shoulder  cannot 
reflect  as  does  the  mind.  The  jeweller  does  not  know  the 
weaver's  art,  nor  does  the  carpenter  understand  the  labors  of 
the  shoemaker.  Nations  understand  nothing  of  the  actions  of 
those  who  govern  them,  and  kings,  in  their  turn,  know  not  all 
that  concerns  their  subjects.  Warmth  never  produces  the 
effect  of  cold ;  dryness  and  humidity  are  incompatible.  Shade 
does  not  undergo  the  action  of  the  sun,  and  the  goblet  is  insen- 
sible to  the  transports  agitating  Djemschid. 

Therefore  understand  this  truth :  thy  nature  is  but  formed 
of  incongruous  elements.  Everywhere  glaring  contrasts  are 
perceived  in  all  objects.  The  wisdom  and  the  might  of  God 
have  no  bounds,  it  is  a  spectacle  without  end.  All  the  parts  of 
creation  are  thus  arranged :  raise  thy  mind's  eye  as  high  as  it 
can  reach.  In  this  world  and  in  the  next,  in  the  form  of  facts 
as  in  their  reality,  on  all  sides  are  encountered  different  degrees. 
In  the  spiritual  order  there  are  also  many  distinctions,  like  a 
sea  with  innumerable  waves.  He  who  has  penetrated  the  far- 
thest in  the  mysteries  of  creation  has  said  that  society  is  only 
founded  on  the  distinction  of  classes.  The  friends  of  God  are 
high-placed,  but  higher  still  are  those  whom  he  has  created 
prophets. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  prophets  are  in  the  place  of  honor 
on  the  light-giving  throne  as  a  brilliant  star  which  irradiates  its 
marvellous  splendor  to  far  distant  worlds.  But  above  all,  and 
in  the  most  exalted  place,  sits  the  king  of  creation,  he  for  whom 
all  was  created,  pre-eminently  the  elect  of  God,  the  precious 
pearl  of  the  ocean  of  divine  generosity,  the  luscious  fruit  of 
the  garden  of  creation,  he  who  opened  the  gate  of  the  treasure 
of  light,  he  for  whom  was  limned  the  picture  of  this  world, 
he  of  whom  it  is  written  in  the  beginning  of  the  book  of  fates, 
he  in  whom  was  all  accomplished,  the  principle  of  the  operations 
of  divine  mercy,  the  last  end  of  the  omnipotence  of  the  Lord, 
he  who  includes  in  himself  the  form  and  essence  of  all  things, 
the  dazzling  light  of  the  torch  of  immutable  destiny,  the  orna- 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  169 

ment  of  existence's  throne,  the  guardian  of  the  treasures  of 
altitude  and  depth,  and  the  seal  of  the  mystery  of  the  two 
worlds. 

He  it  is  who  hath  approached  to  God  as  near  as  two  arcs, 
or  even  nearer,  to  whom  all  has  been  revealed ;  who,  mounted 
proudly  on  the  mighty  Boraq,  traversed  the  ethereal  regions; 
the  universal  ruler  throwing  radiance  over  the  domain  of  sov- 
ereign authority ;  the  luminous  eastern  star  of  science,  the  all- 
excelling  master  of  the  apostolate  of  nations,  on  whom  descend- 
ed the  glorious  revelation,  the  most  beautiful  among  the  children 
of  men,  the  most  perfect  of  beings,  the  most  noble  of  all  crea- 
tures, the  fountain  of  the  graces  shed  on  mankind,  the  soul  of 
the  world,  the  centre  of  creation,  the  illustrious  and  glorious 
Mahomet,  in  whom  the  Lord  delights,  the  origin  of  all  bearers 
of  that  venerable  name,  the  most  perfect  of  all  in  all  degrees. 

The  word  which  proclaims  him  the  first  work  come  forth 
from  the  hands  of  God  has  shed  universal  joy.  His  person 
is  the  seal  of  glory  and  greatness  ;  he  is  the  centre  of  all  purity, 
the  arbiter  of  celestial  revolutions ;  in  him  is  the  consummation 
of  all  perfection.  As  a  seed  concealed  in  the  depths  of  the  in- 
visible earth,  he  appeared  loaded  with  fruit.  If  you  trace  the 
rounded  figure  of  a  mim  you  will  form  Ahmed  from  the  word 
Ahad,  and  if  you  ask  where  is  the  first  letter  of  the  Prophet's 
name,  you  will  find  it  in  the  second  part  of  the  word  Mahomet. 
The  Lord  has  raised  him  above  all ;  he  has  overwhelmed  him 
with  graces  and  blessings.  Benedictions  upon  him,  gn  his  fam- 
ily and  his  friends  till  the  day  of  resurrection ! 


CHAPTER   n 

Details  of  the  Father's  Station  in  Life 

Aboul  Khair  Mohammed  Tchelebi,  thou  who  art  the  orna- 
ment of  Halep,  part  of  my  being,  substance  of  my  life,  first 
fruit  of  the  garden  of  my  happiness,  thou  art  the  luminous  ray 
of  my  life,  thou  art  the  essence  of  the  blessings  which  make 
me  prosper.  The  Lord  in  his  bounty  has  given  thee  to  Nabi, 
O  Joseph  of  thy  father !  O  noble  son !  thou  art  indeed  the 
living  proof  of  the  truth  that  the  son  is  the  joy  of  the  father. 


170 


NABI   efendi 


Thou  art,  O  light  of  mine  eyes,  the  ornament  of  the  garden- 
plot  of  paternal  existence.  Since  thou  hast  become  a  shade 
for  my  head  I  see  thee  alone  in  this  world.  Thou  who  art 
endowed  with  all  the  graces,  I  have  received  thee  from  the 
hand  of  the  Almighty  in  my  declining  days. 

When  thou  didst  appear  on  the  horizon  of  the  world  as  a 
moon  of  beauty,  I  had  already  passed  my  tenth  lustre.  Thou 
wert  given  to  me  when  I  was  fifty-four,  and  it  is  in  thy  eighth 
year  that  this  book  is  written.  My  place  of  nativity  is  the 
charming  city  of  Edessa ;  but  I  was  dwelling  in  Halep  when  I 
wrote  this  work.  Edessa!  type  of  the  eternal  flower-garden, 
native  soil  of  the  well-beloved  of  God,  object  of  the  emula- 
tion of  all  Syria,  scene  of  the  marvellous  deliverance  of  Abra- 
ham! I  sojourned  thirty  years  at  Adrianople  and  at  Constan- 
tinople. Thanks  to  God !  I,  a  poor  slave,  have  been  honored 
with  many  dignities.  Having  no  longer  taste  for  business,  I 
enjoyed  the  repose  given  by  retreat.  The  water  and  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  climate  determined  me  to  select  Halep  as  an 
abiding  place. 

CHAPTER   HI 

Of  the  Motives  which  Decided  the  Author  to  Write  the  Book 

of  Counsels 

Light  of  my  hopes,  gift  bestowed  on  me  by  the  omnipotent 
and  glorious  God !  God  be  praised,  thou  art  of  a  noble  fam- 
ily ;  thy  ancestors  have  all  distinguished  themselves  in  science. 
Although  their  worth  is  not  sufficiently  esteemed,  learned  men 
all  occupy  an  elevated  position.  But  of  what  use  is  the  worth 
of  thy  father  and  of  thy  ancestors,  if  thou  dost  not  raise  thy- 
self by  thy  talent?  Thy  origin  is  pure,  O  creature  of  God! 
He  who  is  well  born  ought  not  to  fall !  All  that  nature  has 
given  me  of  worth  is  found  complete  in  thyself.  Thou  hast 
many  noble  and  good  qualities  which  nothing,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  can  mar.  Thy  good  nature  sheds  afar  its  perfume,  thou 
dost  manifest  the  traces  of  innate  morality.  The  grace  of  God 
will  come  to  thy  aid,  and  thy  natural  capacities  will  easily  sur- 
mount all  difficulties.  God  protect  thee  and  prosper  thee! 
may  St  thou  long  sojourn  in  this  transitory  world ! 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  171 

But  in  order  that  paternal  advice  may  make  a  profound  im- 
pression upon  children,  and  that  you  may  cherish  it  as  a  pre- 
cious jewel  and  make  it  the  subject  of  your  meditations,  after 
having  practised  my  mind  and  grasped  the  pen  of  art,  and 
having  brought  forth  from  my  heart's  mine  pearls  worthy  to 
wreathe  a  poetic  garland,  I  wrote  in  verse  a  book  of  morals 
wdiich  may  perhaps  charm  the  intelligent.  I  have  adorned  it 
with  the  ornaments  of  poetry,  and  I  have  entitled  it  "  The  Good 
Book." 

Reverently  press  it  to  thy  heart,  and  look  upon  it  as  a  guar- 
dian amulet.  Each  day,  O  soul  of  thy  father,  hearken  to  the 
words  of  this  jewel.  Engrave  them  with  care  on  thy  mind,  and 
never  separate  from  it  a  single  instant.  Let,  until  the  day  of 
the  resurrection,  its  salutary  influence  be  exerted  on  thee  and 
on  all  others.  As  long  as  this  table  shall  be  prepared,  may 
young  people  come  to  seat  themselves  here  as  thy  guests.  And 
thou,  as  much  as  thou  shalt  relish  the  joy  of  these  riches,  bless 
the  name  of  thy  father  and  of  thy  mother.  Rejoice  me  by  the 
expression  of  thy  gratitude ;  then  remember  me  in  thy  prayers. 


CHAPTER    IV 
Of  the  Ranks  of  Islam 

O  CYPRESS  of  the  slender  form  gracefully  swaying  in  the 
garden  of  creation,  learn  from  me  what  is  the  thing  most  neces- 
sary to  man  above  all  his  temporal  occupations.  He  should 
reflect  on  his  end,  he  should  embellish  the  edifice  of  his  relig- 
ion; the  five  columns  on  which  this  edifice  rests  are  them- 
selves based  upon  wisdom.  It  is  within  this  enclosure  that 
peace  reigns ;  beyond,  the  shocks  of  adversity  are  to  be  feared. 
There  extends  a  delightful  garden ;  here  opens  the  burning 
abyss  of  hell.  There,  also,  are  the  sectarians  of  the  straight 
and  perfect  road ;  here,  those  who  are  lost  in  error. 

Observe  religiously  the  precept  of  prayer ;  acquit  thyself,  if 
thou  canst,  of  the  obligation  of  pilgrimage  and  of  the  tithe  in 
alms.  Show  proofs  of  zeal  and  activity  in  the  accomplishment 
of  these  duties ;  do  not  show  a  criminal  tendency  to  exempt 
thyself  from  them.  Be  not  rebellious  to  the  orders  of  the  Al- 
mighty; obey  all  his  commandments.     All  the  salutary  prac- 


172 


NABI   efendi 


tices  taught  by  religion  are  for  Mussulmen  like  a  robe  with 
many  folds.  Recite  the  five  prayers,  O  pure  youth,  if  thou  didst 
but  know  what  graces  thou  drawest  down  upon  thyself !  Each 
of  these  practices  has  a  mysterious  meaning;  a  long  discourse 
would  be  required  to  detail  their  merits. 

The  Lord,  generous  in  his  gifts,  has  made  each  of  them  the 
instrument  of  innumerable  benefits.  God  has  no  need  of  thy 
works ;  'tis  thou  alone  who  dost  profit  from  thy  wealth.  O 
generous  soul !  thou  alone  wilt  gather  the  fruit  of  thy  good 
or  evil  actions. 

CHAPTER    V 
Of  the  First  Duty  of  True  Religion 

Charming  branch  of  the  garden  of  morality,  thou  who  re- 
joicest  the  heart  and  eye  of  thy  father,  confess  candidly  thy 
faith  that  all  the  mysteries  of  creation  may  be  revealed  to  thee. 
Make  thy  heart  the  shrine  of  truth ;  light  there  the  flaming 
torch  of  uprightness  and  sincerity.  Fill  thy  mouth  with  the 
honey  of  the  profession  of  the  Mahometan  faith.  Let  all  thy 
words  breathe  submission  to  divine  truths.  The  profession  of 
faith  is  the  seal  of  the  salvation  of  believers,  the  ornament  of 
the  blissful  gate  of  paradise. 

It  is  this  profession  which  establishes  a  striking  distinction 
between  the  shadow  of  impiety  and  the  light  of  faith.  On  it 
rests  the  foundation  of  true  power,  and  on  it  has  risen  the  edi- 
fice of  religion.  It  is  the  column  of  Islamism,  the  water  which 
fills  the  ocean  of  divine  decrees,  the  key  to  the  straight  path 
and  that  which  opens  the  gate  of  that  devotion  agreeable  unto 
God.  It  is,  for  the  tongue  which  utters  it,  like  a  dish  of  ex- 
ceeding sweet  savor.  It  is  its  salutary  virtue  which  vivifies 
those  whose  hearts  are  dead. 


CHAPTER   VI 

Of  the  Excellence  of  Prayer 

O  ROSE  of  the  ever-blooming  garden,  thou,  the  support  of 
thy  aged  father,  at  the  prescribed  time  perform  the  ablutions 
and  purify  thyself  of  exterior  pre-occupation !     Clothe  thyself 


COUNSELS    TO    ABOUL    KHAIR  173 

as  with  a  robe  of  innocence  and  light  that  thou  mayst  be  worthy 
to  sit  among  pure  men.  Prayer,  for  the  faithful,  is  as  a  celes- 
tial ascension  ;  open  thine  eyes  to  this  divine  rapture.  Consider 
not  prayer  as  an  irksome  task ;  it  is  an  honor  which  God 
deigns  to  grant  us.  It  is  the  support  of  religion ;  and  the  cor- 
ner stone  of  the  house  of  faith.  Incline  devoutly  in  thy  adora- 
tions ;  be  among  the  faithful  who  surround  the  mihrab.  Drag 
thy  countenance  in  the  dust  before  the  Lord ;  be  a  slave  in  thy 
heart;  consider  his  majesty.  Prayer  said  without  devotion  is 
valueless  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  each  time  that  thou  dost  bow  down 
send  forth  to  him  a  thousand  ardent  sighs.  Plunge  thyself 
completely  in  these  holy  practices ;  let  thy  reason  succumb  to  a 
mysterious  intoxication. 

Far  be  it  from  thee  to  think  of  the  delights  of  paradise  or 
the  torments  of  hell ;  love  with  all  thy  heart  the  sovereign 
Master  of  both.  Yield  not  to  sleep  in  the  morning ;  be  vigilant 
and  assiduous  in  praying  for  the  pardon  of  thy  sins. 

What  happiness  for  thee  to  cross  thy  hands  on  thy  breast 
and  weep  in  the  presence  of  thy  God !  When  thou  dost  bow 
down,  strike  the  earth  with  thy  forehead ;  behold  the  poten- 
tates of  this  earth,  O  my  son !  is  it  permitted  to  everyone  to 
salute  the  steps  of  their  thrones? 

The  intelligent  man,  prostrated  in  the  dust,  does  not  raise 
his  head ;  his  eyes  are  not  dazzled  by  a  sudden  brilliancy.  Canst 
thou  not  be  assiduous  in  the  exercises  of  thy  piety,  if  thou  dost 
understand  how  precious  they  are  to  thee?  I  wish  to  disclose 
to  thee  a  secret  which  is  not  permitted  to  be  told  to  children. 
Apply  thyself  with  all  thy  strength  to  understand  it ;  thou  wilt 
succeed  in  grasping  its  meaning.  When  thou  dost  pray  while 
standing,  is  it  not  true,  O  youth  beautiful  as  the  full  moon,  that 
thou  dost  resemble  an  clifF  But  when  thou  art  inclined,  one 
might  believe  thou  wert  a  dal:  it  is  the  enigma  of  the  prophets, 
endeavor  to  understand  it.  If  thou  dost  prostrate  thyself  the 
rounded  form  of  a  niim  is  seen,  and  then  thou  dost  indeed  merit 
the  name  of  man.  Forget  not  this  truth  v/hich  is  revealed  unto 
thee :  he  who  neglects  prayer  is  not  a  man. 


174  NABI   efendi 


CHAPTER   VII 
On  the  Excellence  of  Fasting 

O  MOST  delicious  of  the  fruits  of  the  paternal  garden!  pre- 
cious pearl  of  the  sea  of  life !  dost  thou  wish  to  avoid  the  mala- 
dies which  afflict  the  body?  neglect  not  the  fast  of  Ramazan. 
Fasting  is  a  grace  which  the  Lord  grants  to  his  servants ;  he 
does  not  leave  it  without  recompense.  Fasting  is  a  table  pre- 
pared by  the  divine  mercy :  he  who  practises  it  wears  a  robe  of 
light.  It  demands  mystery  and  retreat ;  hypocrisy  should  not 
come  to  profane  it.  Fasting  is  a  mysterious  e-manation  from 
eternity :  it  is  a  figure  of  spiritual  royalty.  The  Prophet  said, 
speaking  with  the  breath  of  one  who  fasts,  that  it  was  more 
pleasing  to  God  than  the  odor  of  musk !  Fasting  is  the  herald 
of  the  joys  of  paradise:  to  renounce  these  joys  is  to  condemn 
one's  self  to  despair. 

Until  the  shades  of  night  begin  to  appear,. let  the  disk  of  the 
sun  be  as  a  seal  over  thy  mouth.  As  long  as  the  jewel  of  thy 
being  shall  shine,  abstain  until  darkness  delivers  thee  from  the 
eyes  of  the  curious.  What  happiness  for  thee  to  have  closed 
lips:  to  be  beyond  all  agitation,  with  closed  mouth  and  quiet 
body,  to  polish  the  mirror  of  thine  existence,  to  deliver  thy 
nature  from  the  trammels  of  matter,  to  make  it  beam  with  a 
radiance  full  of  grace,  to  dissipate  the  shadows  of  thy  soul's 
sanctuary,  to  be  resplendent  as  the  moon  of  the  Ramazan ! 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Of  Pilgrimage,  of  Sacred  Journeys,  and  of  Mount  Arafat 

O  FRESHLY  blooming  rose  of  the  garden-plot  of  my  soul, 
perfume  that  dost  charm  the  nostrils  of  courtesy,  undertake 
no  other  journey  but  that  of  Caaba.  A  useless  journey  is  as 
disastrous  as  the  fire  of  hell.  Caaba  is  the  noblest  of  all  the 
temples  and  the  central  point  of  the  universe.  It  is  the  seat  of 
royalty  ;  the  ornament  of  the  foot  of  the  throne  of  the  Divinity ; 
the  trunk  of  the  tree  of  divine  mercy ;  the  threshold  of  religion 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  175 

and  of  felicity ;  the  torch  that  burns  in  the  shrine  of  mysterious 
truths  and  whose  brilHancy  attracts  suppHants  as  the  candle 
the  butterfly.  It  is  the  mysterious  reflection  of  the  high 
heavens :  the  abode  veiled  in  black  of  Leila ;  the  place  of  the 
adoration  of  men  and  angels,  where  the  celestial  vault  inclines 
in  reverence. 

It  is  the  site  of  the  garden-plot  of  delights,  all  shining  with 
an  ineflfable  light.  It  is  the  station  of  the  sacred  mysteries; 
may  God  forever  increase  their  significance!  It  is  the  throne 
of  the  rule  of  the  Omnipotent  and  the  threshold  of  the  court  of 
the  All-Merciful.  It  is  the  centre  of  the  earth  around  which 
the  heavens  accomplish  their  revolutions.  It  might  be  com- 
pared to  a  holy  man,  tall  in  stature ;  and  the  black  gem  to  the 
buckle  of  his  girdle.  The  black  gem  is  the  jewel  of  salvation 
kissed  with  awe  by  the  friends  of  God.  It  is  the  first  thing 
honored  by  the  hand  of  the  Creator ;  the  more  precious  than 
amber,  adorning  the  earth's  surface.  The  chief  treasure  of  the 
secrets  of  the  Divinity's  palace,  the  ornament  of  humanity's 
domain,  the  dust  at  its  portals  is  as  a  balm  to  the  eyes ;  'tis  the 
abode  of  generosity  and  the  happy  home  of  purity.  The  life- 
giving  water  of  the  well  of  Zemzem  is  all  prepared  for  the 
cleansing  of  our  sins.  The  holy  ground  is  the  glory  of  the  well 
of  Zemzem,  itself  the  glory  of  the  world. 

Mercy  escapes  from  its  golden  funnel  in  inexhaustible 
abundance,  purifying  our  faults.  The  water  of  Zemzem  is  a 
pure  remedy  which  restores  health  to  those  who  languish  in 
separation.  When  thou  dost  arrive  to  the  limits  of  the  sacred 
territory,  then  visit  the  two  walls  of  the  ihram.  The  visiting 
of  holy  spots  gives  new  life ;  each  band  of  pilgrims  participates 
in  the  divine  mercy.  Each  breath  which  escapes  these  breasts 
burning  with  love  is  as  a  spirit  messenger  ascending  to  heaven. 
O  felicity,  O  delight,  O  unspeakable  honor,  to  revolve  around 
God's  throne!  Over  this  sacred  place  of  processions,  that  it 
be  not  profaned,  let  thy  forehead  be  as  a  tapestry!  And  thy 
heart,  like  a  moth,  should  circle  around  this  holy  candle !  Dili- 
gently visit  the  court  of  the  Author  of  all  good.  L'Arife  is  a 
figure  of  the  gathering  at  resurrection  and  the  solemn  day  of 
the  counsel  of  the  merciful  Lord.  There  the  crowds  which 
cover  Mount  Arafat  receive  the  certificate  of  the  pardon  of 
sins. 


iy6  NABI   efendi 

There  are  purified  those  who  were  burdened  with  crime; 
there  are  freed  the  slaves  of  sin.  These  culprits  form  a  daz- 
zling ring  whose  setting  is  the  column  of  divine  mercy.  All 
that  was  dark  becomes  white  as  snow ;  the  record  of  evil  deeds 
is  thrown  in  the  fire.  Mina  is  a  vast  market  where  pardon  is 
given  in  exchange  for  sins.  The  temple  of  Caaba  is  as  the 
heart  of  the  world,  and  its  black  gem  is  its  inmost  part.  Exert 
thyself  to  penetrate  the  mystery  of  thy  nature,  formed  of  slime 
and  water ;  on  this  question  exhaust  all  thy  faculties.  If  thou 
dost  desire  to  discover  its  central  point,  imitate  the  compass  that 
always  turns  in  the  same  circle. 


CHAPTER   IX 

Of  the  Excellence  of  Alms-Giving 

O  PRECIOUS  pearl,  worthiest  heir  of  a  noble  family,  give  till 
the  last  para  the  alms  prescribed  by  law :  they  will  amass  for 
thee  a  capital  of  salvation  and  blessings.  Alms  are  due  unto 
God :  beware  of  negligence  in  paying  him.  Thou  with  whom 
the  Lord  has  so  generously  shared,  dost  thou  not  hasten  to 
purify  thy  wealth  ?  Alms  are  the  wealth  of  the  poor ;  if  thou 
dost  retain  them  unjustly,  thou  wilt  tarnish  a  legitimately 
acquired,  fortune.  What  thou  dost  give  to  obey  the  law  of  God, 
he  will  return  to  thee  tenfold.  If  thou  dost  refuse,  he  will  with- 
draw his  benediction,  and  thy  prosperity  will  vanish.  Wealth 
not  purified  by  alms  is  soon  spent,  and  serves  as  a  target  for  the 
blows  of  adversity.  That  blessed  by  this  holy  practice  is  as  a 
seed  which  it  pleases  God  to  fructify.  The  grains  dispersed  here 
and  there  will  grow  and  multiply,  and  thou  wilt  derive  profit 
from  them  both  in  this  world  and  in  the  next. 

He  who  created  poverty  and  wealth  made  alms  the  share  of 
the  poor.  By  an  impenetrable  mystery  of  his  omnipotence,  he 
has  assigned  to  thee  ease  and  to  another  indigence.  Retain 
not  unjustly  the  rights  of  the  poor ;  pay  them  as  soon  as  they 
are  due.  Complete  legal  alms  by  voluntary  ones,  which  are 
the  branches  which  shoot  forth  from  the  trunk  of  the  others. 
How  many  passages  of  the  Sacred  Book  bear  witness  to  the 
excellence  of  their  merits !     Without  poverty  riches  would  have 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  177 

no  value,  so  has  ordained  he  who  has  done  all  things.  The 
poor  are  as  the  mirrors  of  the  rich ;  thus  the  nature  of  each 
thing  is  revealed  by  contrasts.  What  couldst  thou  have  accom- 
plished against  fate,  hadst  thou  been  poor  and  not  rich  ?  The 
sight  of  poverty  provokes  the  rich  to  thankfulness  ;  it  gives  them 
occasion  to  congratulate  themselves  for  their  prosperity. 

If  there  were  no  beggars  in  the  roads  of  this  perishable 
world,  how  couldst  thou  purify  thy  goods  by  alms?  If  the 
pauper  refuses  thee,  thou  hast  reason  to  be  sad ;  if  he  accepts, 
thou  art  his  debtor.  Is  he  not  the  instrument  of  thy  joy  and  of 
thy  prosperity  ?  What  do  I  say :  he  is  one  more  benefit  added 
to  all  those  thou  hast  received  from  God.  Know  that  it  is  the 
liberality  of  the  Lord  which  sends  the  mendicant  to  the  faithful, 
because  the  profit  of  alms  is  his  who  donates.  Thank  the  Lord 
for  the  gifts  he  has  bestowed  upon  thee ;  thy  glory  will  become 
more  brilliant.  Look  upon  the  poor  with  the  eye  of  compas- 
sion; beware  from  speaking  harshly  to  them.  Be  affable  and 
mild  to  them.  Pour  forth  thy  riches  upon  those  who  suffer 
from  hunger ;  it  is  their  right. 

Let  thy  door  be  the  rendezvous  of  the  poor  that  thy  bounty 
may  equal  thy  power.  Is  it  not  better  to  come  to  the  aid  of  the 
unfortunate,  and  assuage  the  pangs  of  the  hungry,  than  to 
impose  on  thyself  an  added  abstinence,  and  to  defray  the  costs 
of  repairing  several  mosques?  There  is  more  merit  in  giving 
water  to  one  who  thirsts  than  to  visit  Caaba  annually.  Glory 
and  honor  to  him  around  whom  press  all  those  who  suffer,  and 
happy  indeed  is  the  wealth  which  serves  to  solace  the  misery  of 
the  poor.  How  worthy  of  envy  is  that  powerful  man  who 
bestows  bounty  upon  thousands  of  paupers !  Is  he  not  a  river 
of  blessings,  whose  liberality  pours  over  all  his  brothers  ? 

Do  not  regard  the  poor  with  disdain,  nor  reproach  them 
with  the  gifts  thou  hast  made.  May  thy  benevolence  rejoice 
children,  and  thy  caresses  console  their  afflicted  hearts ! 

Blessed  be  the  treasures  destined  by  God  for  such  glorious 
uses,  that  are  as  a  saving  ointment  on  the  wounded  hearts  of 
defenceless  orphans !  Dry  their  tears  with  thy  beneficent  hand ; 
may  thy  caresses  make  them  forget  the  parents  they  have 
lost !  When  thou  dost  prosper  in  thy  affairs,  when  Providence 
overwhelms  thee  with  favors,  put  not  thy  foot  in  the  way  of 
ingratitude ;  fly  from  it  with  all  the  strength  of  thy  soul ! 
12 


178  NABI    efendi 

Gratitude  is  often  only  a  vain  word ;  let  it  be  more  in  thy  actions 
than  in  thy  speech.  Thank  God  from  the  bottom  of  thy  heart ; 
be  generous  to  the  poor.  When  thou  seest  the  servants  of 
God  without  bread  and  without  garments,  close  not  before  them 
the  door  of  liberality ;  repulse  not  those  who  extend  to  thee  sup- 
pliant hands. 

Whoever  be  the  guest  who  takes  shelter  beneath  thy  roof, 
spare  nothing  to  spread  before  him  the  table  of  hospitality. 
Treat  him  according  to  his  deserts  ;  honor  him  according  to  his 
dignity.  If  he  makes  himself  troublesome,  have  patience ;  per- 
haps a  single  word  will  win  his  heart  to  thee.  Let  not  disap- 
pointment fill  his  eyes  with  tears ;  refuse  him  nothing,  if  it  is 
possible.  Dost  not  wish  to  deliver  him  from  all  anxiety  and 
to  second  with  thy  efforts  all  his  desires?  If  it  is  not  in  thy 
power  to  content  him,  at  least  let  the  mildness  of  thy  refusal 
leave  him  without  regrets.  Calm  his  mind  with  goodly  words ; 
fetter  his  heart  with  benevolence.  That  he  may  not  leave  thee 
with  a  wounded  heart,  think  of  what  thou  wouldst  do  in  his 
place.     How  many  ways  thou  hast  to  show  thy  gratitude ! 

No,  gratitude  cannot  be  limited.  The  mind  of  man  is  as 
incapable  of  understanding  its  merits  as  he  is  of  worthily  mani- 
festing it.  If  thou  dost  wish  the  sincerity  of  thy  sentiments 
not  to  be  suspected,  bestow  liberally  of  thy  wealth  upon  the 
poor.  Let  thy  bounties,  pure  of  all  ostentation,  have  no  other 
witness  than  the  Divine  Majesty.  Beware  of  making  allusions 
to  them  in  words  of  pride;  the  Lord  will  know  how  to  raise 
the  veil  with  which  thy  modesty  has  covered  them.  The  mis- 
conduct of  intoxication  is  better  than  benefits  accompanied 
with  reproaches.  There  are  many  whom  shame  prevents  from 
begging ;  go  to  meet  those  who  have  a  right  to  thy  compassion. 
How  many  men  are  divested  of  prosperity  and  whom  misfor- 
tune has  thrown  at  thy  feet!  To  him  who  remains  so  over- 
whelmed in  misery,  even  though  he  solicit  not  thy  generosity, 
go,  extend  a  succoring  hand;  that  is  more  profitable  than  the 
building  of  sumptuous  palaces. 

Be  convinced  of  this  truth:  thou  wilt  receive  the  reward 
for  thy  good  deeds.  Hypocrisy  soils  thy  bounties ;  they  will 
be  neither  useful  to  thee  nor  to  them  who  have  received  them. 
Better  is  it  to  aid  one  unfortunate  than  to  invite  the  rich  to 
luxurious  repasts.     Seated  at  thy  table,  they  would  laugh  at 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  179 

thy  expense,  and  would  criticise  thy  least  faults.  Hospitality 
given  thus  to  the  opulent,  what  is  it  but  prodigality?  What 
will  it  reap,  in  this  world  and  in  the  next,  but  the  eternal  tor- 
tures of  hell  ?  Except  in  the  cases  where  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  avoid  serious  inconvenience,  to  conciliate  the  good-will 
of  thy  brothers  and  live  on  good  terms  with  them,  every  time 
that  abundance  reigns  with  thee,  call  in  the  poor  and  the  orphans 
to  share  with  thee. 


CHAPTER    X 
The  Desirability  of  Knowledge 

O  YOUNG  and  growing  shrub,  ornament  of  the  meadow  of 
education,  thou  who  dost  lighten  the  heart  and  the  eyes  of  thy 
father,  apply  thyself  night  and  day  to  the  study  of  noble  wis- 
dom ;  remain  not  like  the  brute,  plunged  in  ignorance.  Beware 
of  a  shameful  idleness ;  knowledge  and  study  are  inseparable. 
The  numerical  value  of  these  words  is  a  proof  in  itself  of  this 
truth.  Without  study  no  knowledge ;  where  one  is  not,  the 
other  cannot  exist.  Knowledge  is  the  attribute  of  God;  it  is 
the  most  precious  of  all  qualities.  Neglect  nothing  to  acquire 
it ;  such  is  the  teaching  of  the  illustrious  preceptor.  He  also  has 
said :  Devote  thyself  to  study  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb. 
Exert,  then,  all  thy  strength  to  arrive  at  a  city  whose  gate  is 
the  son-in-law  of  the  Prophet. 

Knowledge,  celestial  gift,  is  the  table  of  divine  hospitality. 
Mediator  between  being  and  void,  it  adorns  the  visage  of  exist- 
ence. It  is  for  it  that  the  king  of  the  domain  of  light  exclaimed : 
Lord,  increase  my  knowledge !  It  is  the  source  of  glory  and  of 
elevation ;  it  gives  an  authority  free  from  all  taint.  It  holds  the 
empire  of  dignity  and  of  elucidation;  it  dispenses  all  knowl- 
edge. Vast  ocean  without  bounds,  he  who  claims  to  possess 
it  is  without  wisdom.  Ignorance  is  death,  knowledge  is  life, 
said  the  Lord ;  dost  thou  then  desire  to  be  counted  among  the 
dead?  Do  not  deprive  thyself  of  eternal  life  ;  learn,  with  the  aid 
of  knowledge,  to  distinguish  good  from  evil.  Enrich  thy  mind 
with  all  kinds  of  knowledge ;  who  knows  if  thou  wilt  not  have 
occasion  to  make  use  of  it  ?    If  thou  art  questioned  concerning 


l8o  NABI   efendi 

a  difficulty,  is  it  not  better  to  reply  thereunto  than  to  confess 
thy  ignorance? 

God  said  to  men :  Seek  knowledge  even  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  Blush  not  to  take  lessons  from  a  teacher  skilful  in 
archery ;  in  all  things  it  is  finer  to  know  than  to  be  ignorant. 
The  unlearned,  in  comparison  with  the  learned,  are  dunces,  and 
even  less.  How  can  an  educated  man  be  compared  to  an  igno- 
rant one?  are  the  blind  and  those  that  see  on  the  same  level? 
Whatever  be  his  rank  and  power,  true  dignity  will  never  be 
the  portion  of  the  ignorant.  Ignorance  is  the  capital  of  shame 
and  dishonor;  his  lot  is  debasement  and  contempt.  It  is  a 
cursed  prison,  in  which  those  who  fall  never  see  liberty  again. 
Ignorance  is  chaos,  knowledge  is  existence,  how  can  two  such 
contrary  principles  be  associated? 

Apply  thyself  to  the  study  of  the  secrets  of  nature ;  do  not 
stray  in  the  valley  of  philosophy.  What  is  more  precious  than 
knowledge?  have  any  ever  repented  of  devoting  themselves  to 
it?  Subjects  and  kings  all  have  need  of  the  assistance  of 
learned  men.  The  nobility  of  knowledge  has  no  more  limits 
than  the  attributes  of  the  Creator.  As  long  as  these  cannot 
be  limited,  how  can  one  fix  boundaries  to  the  others?  fDo  not 
pause  at  the  shell  of  things ;  seek  to  penetrate  to  the  marrow. 
From  the  surface,  pass  to  the  interior :  does  the  bird  fly  in  the 
air  without  wings?  The  outside  of  a  house  is  as  a  place  of 
passage;  it  is  within  one  seeks  repose.  Pearls  are  not  found 
on  the  borders  of  the  sea ;  if  thou  dost  wish  to  possess  them, 
thou  must  plunge  in  the  depthsJ 

The  study  of  grammar,  of  syntax,  and  of  literature  is  neces- 
sary ;  they  are  indispensable  instruments  to  learn  Arabic ;  but 
it  is  not  necessary  to  give  all  one's  time  to  it :  of  what  good  is 
an  instrument  which  one  does  not  use  ?  It  is  good  to  acquire  all 
sorts  of  knowledge ;  not,  however,  to  the  same  degree.  It  suf- 
fices thee  to  ornament  thy  mind  with  the  knowledge  of  juris- 
prudence, of  the  hadis  and  of  the  commentaries  of  the  Koran. 
For  the  rest,  content  thyself  with  theory,  leave  to  others  the 
practice :  fly  lawsuits  and  contests.  Abandon  law  for  the  prac- 
tice of  good  works ;  enter  not  in  the  domains  of  chicanery :  if 
thou  dost  not  understand  anything  of  the  questions  of  purchase 
and  sale,  what  disadvantage  will  come  to  thee  of  it  in  this  world 
and  the  next  ? 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  i8i 

CHAPTER    XI 
Of  the  Knowledge  of  God 

O  MOST  beautiful  of  the  pages  of  the  book  of  creatures,  thou 
whose  image  adorns  the  mirror  of  quaHties!  hearken  to  this 
paternal  counsel :  Boast  of  thy  merit  to  no  one ;  do  not  pursue 
a  vain  science  which  is  babbled  of  in  public  lest  thou  consume 
thy  strength  to  no  purpose.  Devote  thyself  to  some  science 
worthy  of  thy  Creator  and  of  thyself.  Only  pass  through  the 
realm  of  philosophy,  but  fasten  thy  attention  on  the  writings 
of  the  friends  of  God.  The  holy  aspirations  of  these  illustrious 
guides  bring  men  to  truth.  How  difficuh  is  it  to  find  a  perfect 
spiritual  director !  For  the  present,  these  precepts  may  suffice 
for  thee.  Let  thy  piety  be  enlightened.  Far  be  it  from  thee  to 
become  a  hypocrite  and  bigot,  and  weary  not  of  aspiring  to 
perfection  and  of  working  to  become  a  sincere  adorer  of  God. 

Do  not  stray  in  the  slippery  places  of  doubt,  for  there  are  no 
wise  men  save  those  who  are  learned  in  divine  things.  How 
can  he  who  devotes  himself  to  grammatical  subtilities  pene- 
trate the  divine  mysteries  ?  The  Creator  of  love  has  said :  Ac- 
quire knowledge;  such  should  be  the  aim  of  the  two  worlds. 
Knowledge  is  the  ornament  of  man  and  the  last  places  are  the 
share  of  the  ignorant.  Knowledge  is  a  spiritual  happiness  and 
a  gift  of  divine  beneficence.  The  ignorant  reject  knowledge  be- 
cause they  cannot  raise  themselves  to  the  required  level,  for  they 
would  devote  themselves  to  it  body  and  soul,  were  it  possible. 
Examine  closely,  and  then  decide. 

The  mud  of  deception  is  not  able  to  sully  the  garb  of  knowl- 
edge and  the  garment  of  instruction.  Thou  knowest  that  it  is 
God  himself  who  hath  put  thee  in  this  world  to  serve  him  with 
all  thy  heart.  Of  necessity  he  is  the  master  of  the  house ;  the 
fool  only  sees  the  house  and  mistakes  the  master.  Labor  cour- 
ageously night  and  day  to  obtain  the  grace  of  the  abiding  of 
God  with  thee.  Let  him  be  the  constant  object  of  thy  thoughts 
and  of  thy  meditations,  and  be  attentive  to  this  great  spectacle 
beneath  thy  eyes.  Trouble  not  thyself  with  heaven  or  with  hell, 
for  it  is  their  Master  only  whom  thou  must  seek.  If  thou  dost 
possess  him,  O  life  of  my  soul,  thou  wilt  possess  two  worlds. 


i82  NABI  efendi 

Seek  to  know  thyself  well,  if  thou  dost  wish  to  fathom  the  mys- 
teries of  this  world.  Seek  morality  eagerly,  and  give  thyself 
no  respite  when  thou  wilt  have  found  it.  Whoever  knows  it 
not  is  a  blind  man  below  the  ox  and  the  ass.  Morality  is  the 
chief  riches  of  an  enlightened  soul  and  heart,  and  the  last  step 
to  the  knowledge  of  God.  He  who  hath  not  penetrated  to  the 
light  of  morality  remains  lost  in  the  shadows  of  error. 

If  thou  dost  well  understand  the  truth  of  things,  O  pearl  of 
Aden,  thou  wilt  be  invulnerable  against  fear  and  sadness. 
There  lies  all  the  mystery  of  unity ;  there  is  the  secret  of  eter- 
nal felicity.  Light  of  mine  eyes!  how  full  of  anguish  it  is  to 
be  struck  with  blindness  in  this  world  and  in  the  next !  Anoint 
thine  eyes  with  the  salve  of  morality;  if  not,  the  day  of  judg- 
ment will  be  that  of  thy  condemnation.  He  is  blind,  he  that 
does  not  bear  witness,  for  whom  the  gates  of  truth  remain 
closed.  He  who  was  the  glory  of  prophets  asked  in  his  pray- 
ers that  the  truth  might  be  revealed  to  him.  The  writings  of 
the  men  of  God  make  the  mirror  of  the  intelligence  to  burn: 
do  thou  apply  thyself  to  understand  their  meaning.  Let  these 
teachings  be  the  safeguard  of  thy  soul.  He  who  seeks  God  has 
no  better  guide  than  the  mesnevis  of  the  greatest  Physician. 
The  sublime  truths  of  the  "  Book  of  Victories  and  of  Distinc- 
tions "  are  a  balm  of  purity  for  the  mind's  eye.  The  saints  have 
left  many  teachings  which  aid  man  to  know  his  Creator. 
Therein  are  found  mystic  and  spiritual  truths  derived  from 
the  Koran.  Outwardly,  they  are  only  legal  decisions,  but  be- 
neath is  a  whole  order  of  incontestable  revelations.  Consecrate 
all  thy  hours  to  the  study  of  these  books :  mayst  thou  possess 
in  full  the  doctrine  which  they  contain ! 


CHAPTER   Xn 

Eulogy  of  Constantinople 

O  MOON  that  dost  light  the  eye  of  hope,  and  dost  adorn  the 
days  of  thy  aged  father !  it  availeth  thee  more  to  cultivate  thy 
talents  than  to  break  the  seal  of  a  treasure.  Knowledge  and 
instruction  have  no  surer  asylum  than  Constantinople,  which 
has  not  its  equal  for  the  flavor  of  its  intellectual  fruit.     May 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  183 

God  prosper  this  abode  of  all  greatness,  the  home  and  school 
of  all  great  men,  and  the  seat  of  administration  for  all  people  1 
There  merit  always  finds  consideration.  Every  perfection, 
every  talent,  is  there  esteemed  at  its  just  value.  There  are  all 
the  degrees  of  honor  and  of  nobility;  everywhere  else  life  is 
lost  and  wasted.  There  everything  has  its  peaceable  course, 
and  merit  has  not  the  injustice  of  fortune  to  fear.  There  are 
found  all  places,  all  dignities,  and  all  careers.  Heaven  in  vain 
revolves  around  the  world,  it  sees  nowhere  a  city  like  unto 
Constantinople.  There  are  seen  paintings,  drawings,  writings, 
and  gildings,  dazzling  and  gleaming  beyond  belief.  All  possi- 
ble kinds  of  arts  contribute  their  own  brilliancy  and  splendor. 
See  how  she  gleams  with  a  beauty  all  her  own,  as  the  sea  lan- 
guidly caresses  her ! 

At  Constantinople  all  arts  and  all  professions  are  esteemed 
and  honored,  and  one  finds  here  talents  whose  names  even  are 
unknown  elsewhere.  Does  he  who  is  outside  the  house  know 
what  is  within?  Does  he  who  stands  on  the  shore  see  what 
is  hidden  by  the  depth  of  the  sea?  There  also  they  excel  in 
archery  and  the  names  of  conquerors  are  immortalized  on  stone. 
Without  mention  of  the  rest,  how  pleasant  and  charming  it  is 
to  fly  over  the  surface  of  the  sea,  to  reign  at  the  same  time  over 
the  air  and  the  waves,  like  Solomon  on  his  throne,  and  to  re- 
cline luxuriously  on  a  cushion  with  eyes  fixed  on  a  mirror  of 
silver !  There  are  combined  at  once  music,  song,  and  all  pleas- 
ures. There,  riding  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  the  eyes  per- 
ceive a  great  number  of  cities.  Tranquilly  resting  on  the  breeze, 
one  traverses  the  earth  without  fatigue.  There  are  marvellous- 
ly reflected  the  most  gorgeous  spectacles,  which  seem  to  mirror 
one  another  and  give  an  enchanted  aspect  to  the  shores.  The 
qiiatqs  glide  lightly  over  the  water,  with  their  wind-filled 
sails  like  a  bird's  wings.  How  can  so  beautiful  a  sight  be  de- 
scribed? what  need  has  it  of  eulogy? 

Behold  Saint  Sophia,  marvel  of  the  world,  whose  cupola 
might  be  termed  the  eighth  celestial  body.  Nowhere  has  she 
her  equal,  save,  perhaps  in  paradise.  Contemplate  the  imperial 
seat  of  the  sultans  of  the  world,  the  dwelling  of  the  kings  of 
time,  the  court  of  the  Ottoman  Empire,  and  the  centre  of  the 
rule  of  the  khans.  In  this  ever-blessed  region  is  found  all  that 
is  desirable.     Whatever  thou  canst  imagine,  she  possesses  in 


i84  NABI  efendi 

the  highest  degree.  She  combines  the  elect  of  the  beys,  of  the 
pachas,  and  the  efendis,  the  most  illustrious  warriors  and  the 
most  renowned  wise  men. 

All  the  world's  difficulties  there  find  their  solutions :  all 
efforts  are  there  crowned  with  success.  The  mind  cannot  con- 
ceive all  the  charms  she  contains.  If  she  were  not  afflicted 
with  all  kinds  of  disease  and  the  abominable  plague,  who  would 
consent  to  leave  this  celestial  abode  whence  care  is  forever  ex- 
iled ?  If  her  temperature  were  more  equal,  would  she  not  cause 
the  rest  of  the  world  to  be  forgotten  ?  Whoever  has  an  estab- 
lished fortune  should  not  establish  his  home  in  any  other  coun- 
try. No  city,  no  country,  resembles  or  is  comparable  to  her. 
She  is  the  asylum  of  all  sciences :  everywhere  else  study  is  neg- 
lected for  gain,  commerce,  agriculture,  or  usury,  so  that  all 
vestiges  of  knowledge  have  disappeared.  Money  takes  the 
place  of  talent  in  a  province,  and  it  seems  as  if  merit  could  be 
extracted  from  it.  In  the  provinces  scientific  men  have  become 
extinct  and  books  are  forgotten.  Poetry  and  prose  are  both  held 
in  aversion,  and  even  a  Persian  phrase  is  tabooed.  The  study 
of  Arabic  has  vanished  as  snow  without  consistency,  and  the 
principles  of  grammar  and  syntax  are  entirely  neglected.  Lux- 
ury and  presumption  have  intoxicated  all  hearts,  and  there  is 
no  worship  but  that  of  dignities  and  employments.  There  one 
finds  neither  virtue  nor  knowledge,  and  morality  is  outraged. 

The  ambition  to  secure  vain  honors  leaves  no  time  for  the 
labor  for  perfection.  How  many  do  not  lift  up  their  voices 
unto  the  Lord  except  when  their  fortunes  are  threatened  by 
reverses!  It  is  by  a  special  dispensation  of  Providence  that 
God  has  withdrawn  learning  from  the  provinces.  If  he  had  not 
first  chained  them  in  ignorance,  who  could  have  governed  such 
men  ?  The  seat  of  power  belongs  to  the  great,  but  pride  is  the 
part  of  provincials.  He  who  is  high  placed  is  not  vainglori- 
ous ;  but  these  wretches  are  filled  with  arrogance.  They  con- 
stantly compare  their  dignity  and  importance  to  that  of  the 
representatives  of  authority. 

But  what  would  it  be  if  they  possessed  learning?  They 
would  not  deign  to  look  at  their  fellows.  They  know  not  their 
value,  and  take  no  account  of  their  worth. 

Nothing  teaches  the  inferiority  of  the  provinces  more  than 
the  sight  of  Constantinople.    In  the  gatherings  of  the  capital 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  185 

he  who  passes  elsewhere  for  a  wisest  man  of  the  century  is 
but  a  blockhead ;  the  strong-minded  loses  his  assurance,  and 
the  fine  talker  has  no  longer  a  tongue.  They  who  boasted  so 
loudly  of  their  rank  and  nobility  arc  only  admitted  to  the  most 
commonplace  circles.  The  arrogant,  who  knit  his  brows  so 
disdainfully,  eagerly  seeks  the  door-keepers.  He  who  bore  a 
title  so  pompously,  cannot  even  obtain  the  honor  of  kissing 
the  hem  of  a  robe.  He  who  occupied  the  first  place  is  not  even 
deemed  worthy  to  remain  at  the  door.  What  city  can  be  com- 
pared to  Constantinople?  Is  not  the  prince  above  him  whose 
homages  he  receives?  After  the  capital,  there  is  no  place  so 
charming  as  Halep.  Halep !  honor  of  the  province,  illustrious 
and  flourishing  city;  the  resort  of  Indians,  Europeans,  and 
Chinese;  object  of  the  envy  of  the  whole  universe;  the  mar- 
ket of  all  merchandise ;  haven  of  joys  and  wealth,  with  thy  de- 
licious waters  and  climate,  thy  vast  plains  and  magnificent 
buildings. 

CHAPTER   XIII 

On  Flight  from  Avidity  and  Avarice 

O  NEW  copy  of  the  collection  of  mysteries,  rosebud  of  the 
garden  of  graces !  discover  thy  needs  to  no  one,  bend  not 
thy  back  under  the  load  of  a  favor  received.  Open  not  thy 
mouth  to  request ;  let  not  servile  and  entreating  speech  soil 
thy  lips.  Cupidity  always  engenders  a  bad  reputation:  the 
true  secret  to  gain  the  esteem  of  others  is  to  moderate  thy 
desires.  Hast  thou  not  received  the  portion  assigned  to  thee 
by  destiny?  What  is  the  water  of  life,  if  it  is  not  considera- 
tion? Should  we  not  always  show  it?  Be  animated  by  gen- 
erous feelings,  beware  of  baseness,  and  do  not  demand  all  that 
thou  seest.  What  is  there  so  desirable  in  thy  brother's  hand 
that  thou  shouldst  so  unceasingly  covet?  Has  he  not  need  of 
the  gifts  of  the  Lord,  as  thou  hast?  and  is  he  not  also  the 
debtor  of  his  universal  beneficence?  Is  he  not  able  to  show 
thee  favor,  a  weak  mortal,  and  has  he  not  sufficient  wealth  to 
share  with  thee?  God  never  reproaches  us  with  the  benefits 
he  grants :  but  is  the  hand  of  man  other  than  an  instrument  ? 

Although  in  all  things  the  first  causes  must  be  considered, 


i86  NABI   efendi 

what  are  these  causes  without  that  which  directs  them?  Seek 
not  the  creature  to  the  exclusion  of  the  Creator;  lose  not  thy 
trouble.  Confide  in  the  generosity  of  the  Lord ;  the  portion  he 
has  allotted  thee  will  return  in  spite  of  thyself.  How  sweet  it 
is  to  repose  in  the  shade  of  a  modest  retreat  and  to  content 
one's  self  with  the  gifts  of  Providence !  Lay  not  a  bold  hand 
on  the  object  of  thy  covetousness ;  God  knows  what  is  neces- 
sary for  thee.  Let  thy  heart,  satisfied  with  the  Creator's  gifts, 
accept  with  gratitude  all  that  he  grants  thee!  In  his  high 
wisdom,  he  knows  all  thy  needs  and  he  will  provide  for  them 
at  the  seasonable  time.  Pious  legacies  do  not  belong  to  thee ; 
the  universal  Dispenser  will  exhaust  other  sources  to  enrich 
thee.  Money  cannot  appease  hunger  nor  can  it  serve  for  the 
nourishing  of  thy  body.  If  thou  didst  amass  pyramids  of  gold 
or  of  silver,  could  they  take  the  place  of  bread,  or  of  oil,  or  of 
rice?  Why  trouble  thyself  concerning  thy  subsistence?  Does 
not  God  provide  for  his  servants'  needs  ?  All  that  is  not  given 
willingly  loses  its  worth:  were  it  a  rose,  it  has  no  longer  a 
perfume. 

If  thou  art  offered  anything,  O  soul  of  thy  father!  sully 
not  thy  eyes  and  thy  heart  with  cupidity :  be  courageous,  and 
abase  not  thyself  by  looks  which  beg  on  all  sides.  However, 
thou  canst  accept  with  simplicity  what  a  friend  offers.  In  thy 
turn,  thou  wilt  evidence  thy  gratitude  by  some  present.  Let 
thy  promises  remain  always  inviolable :  be  a  religious  observer 
of  thy  word.  Know  that  a  promise  is  a  sacred  obligation,  and 
that  to  fail  therein  is  to  be  covered  with  shame.  Beware  lest 
by  lying  words  thou  plantest  the  tree  of  promise  on  the  roots 
of  bad  faith. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

On  the  Bad  Effects  of  Pleasantry  and  Jocularity 

O  THOU  who  dost  aspire  to  repose  in  this  world  and  in  the 
next,  who  dost  seek  the  way  of  peace  of  soul,  abandon  not 
thyself  to  pleasantries  and  jokes!  This  habit  plunges  into 
trouble  all  those  who  contract  it.  Sacrifice  not  thy  friend  to  a 
play  on  words ;  throw  not  to  the  wind  the  rights  of  bread 
and  salt.     Pleasantry  breaks  the  ties  of  intimacy,  and  its  re- 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  187 

suits  are  sad  and  painful.  However  brilliant  it  may  be,  it  in- 
flicts none  the  less  deep  wounds.  How  can  the  name  of  pleas- 
antries be  given  to  those  burning  arrows  aimed  at  a  friend's 
heart  ? 

How  many  sallies,  impregnated  with  venomous  spleen,  have 
filled  with  anger  and  rage  those  whom  thou  dost  love!  True 
wit  is  that  which  is  appropriate,  brief  in  expression,  full  of 
sense,  innocent  and  inoffensive,  like  a  blooming  rose  of  the 
heart's  garden,  whose  charms  attract  from  afar  all  the  nightin- 
gales. Its  perfume,  breathed  with  delight,  drives  from  the 
heart  all  thoughts  of  hate.  It  charms  the  ear  like  good  tidings, 
and  all  who  hear  it  are  filled  with  joy.  It  is  carried  from  city 
to  city,  and  passes  into  a  proverb  from  age  to  age.  Nothing 
is  more  charming  than  such  a  pleasantry ;  if  it  is  otherwise,  it 
were  better  to  refrain  from  making  it. 

Beware  of  fault-finding  and  backbiting :  a  shame  for  all  wise 
men.  No  pleasure  nor  profit  can  be  found  therein,  and  a  very 
great  sin  is  committed  in  yielding  to  it.  The  confidence  of  thy 
friends  is  lost ;  and  thy  name  is  detested  where  it  is  uttered. 
Fault-finding  and  backbiting  render  one  as  odious  as  does 
calumny.  May  God  preserve  thee  from  this  scourge;  mayst 
thou  live  in  purity  of  heart  and  tranquillity  of  body ! 


CHAPTER   XV 

Of  the  Nobility  of  Generosity 

O  THOU  who  dost  enumerate  carefully  the  advantages  of 
success,  and  dost  consider  the  spectacle  of  refusals  and  wel- 
comes, throw  not  a  look  of  indifference  on  thy  neighbor! 
Turn  with  interest  to  the  unfortunate.  Observe  the  rights  of 
thy  neighbors  with  justice;  let  the  expression  of  thy  coun- 
tenance wound  no  one.  Be  not  so  parsimonious  with  thy  food 
that  thou  canst  not  share  it  with  others.  Provide  for  their 
needs  as  much  as  possible.  Let  all  the  weak  take  refuge  in 
the  shadows  of  thy  generosity!  Do  not  entertain  sentiments 
of  hate  and  enmity  against  anyone;  do  not  acquire  the  habit 
of  tumult  and  agitation.  Beware  of  anger,  rage,  and  revenge ; 
show  to  no  one  a  countenance  furrowed  with  discontent. 


i88  NABI    efendi 

Live  on  good  terms  with  all  the  world  and  be  always  of 
an  equable  disposition.  Do  not  annoy  thy  inferiors,  nor  impose 
upon  them  the  constraint  of  cold  formalities.  Let  not  the  ex- 
pression of  thy  countenance  grieve  anyone ;  captivate  every- 
one with  thy  good-nature.  Let  no  one  be  a  victim  of  thy  in- 
justice, never  return  evil  for  evil.  Be  not  a  burden  on  thy 
friends,  do  not  make  thyself  insupportable  by  thy  bad  dispo- 
sition. Let  no  soul  be  in  anguish  for  thee ;  rather  labor  to 
elevate  those  who  are  desperate.  Bring  no  lawsuit  against  any- 
one, that  God  may  preserve  thee  in  turn  from  litigants.  Do 
not  compromise  thy  honor  in  this  world  and  in  the  next  for 
strange  interests.    Be  neither  guardian,  counsellor,  nor  trustee. 

Fly  the  domain  of  chicanery ;  do  not  rush  into  profitless  agi- 
tation with  lowered  head.  He  who  enters  into  quarrelling  and 
strife  with  others  brings  down  upon  himself  trouble  and  anx- 
iety. Never  follow  the  road  of  disputes  and  strife,  for  they 
provoke  the  flames  of  hatred !  Raise  not  a  finger  to  do  evil : 
let  one  of  thy  hands  be  always  busy  in  doing  good.  Carry  not 
thy  complaints  to  the  door  of  the  prince ;  refer  to  God's  tribu- 
nal him  who  hath  wronged  thee.  However  great  be  thy  weak- 
ness and  impotence,  will  the  Lord  therefore  be  less  zealous  for 
thy  defence  ?  Resigned  and  modest,  be  without  care  and  with- 
out anxiety. 

CHAPTER   XVI 

Eulogy  of  Good-nature 

O  PRECIOUS  pearl  of  the  sea  of  life,  chosen  model  of  the 
beauty  of  virtues!  practise  modesty,  have  always  a  dervish's 
heart.  Content  thyself  with  little,  practise  humility :  shoot 
forth  roots  in  the  garden-plot  of  the  roses  of  prosperity.  Mild- 
ness, politeness,  and  good  deeds  will  win  to  thee  all  unpreju- 
diced men.  Is  it  fitting  for  good-nature  to  knit  the  brow  and 
contract  the  forehead?  Kindness  and  urbanity  of  character 
brighten  the  mirror  of  the  heart.  As  truly  as  a  smiling  coun- 
tenance is  an  indication  of  the  mercy  of  God,  so  is  a  sullen  face 
a  cause  for  reprobation. 

Bad  morals,  reprehensible  habits,  and  ill-humor  lead  to  eter- 
nal damnation.    How  insupportable  are  the  manners  of  whom- 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  189 

soever  is  given  to  haughtiness !  Presumption  is  a  diabolical 
fault  unknown  to  the  court  of  angels.  Have  no  intercourse 
with  the  vainglorious ;  fly  from  him.  If  thou  be  forced  to 
sit  near  him,  show  humility.  The  wise  men,  although  with 
apparent  moderation,  have  said :  Be  proud  with  him  who  is 
proud ;  but  as  thereby  there  may  be  cause  for  discord,  hasten 
to  avoid  it  by  thy  humility.  Pride  and  presumption  in  human 
nature  are  an  inevitable  malady  and  incurable  wound.  He 
who  falls  into  this  abyss  cannot  prosper;  the  hurt  of  his  mis- 
fortune becomes  incurable. 

Suffer  not  thyself  to  be  intoxicated  by  honors  and  dignities ; 
expose  not  thus  thy  brow  to  the  wrath  of  the  lord.  Grandeur 
and  eminence  are  fitting  in  God ;  but  what  can  they  accomplish 
in  a  slave  ?  Let  all  thy  ways  be  submissive :  never  reach  forth 
thy  hand  to  do  wrong  to  another.  If  pride  and  haughtiness 
appear  in  thee,  God  will  raise  up  enemies  for  thee  even  among 
thy  kindred.  Let  us  suppose  that  thy  rank  lifts  thee  to  heaven, 
thou  art  none  the  less  the  last  of  the  slaves  of  the  Lord.  Re- 
pulse no  one  from  thy  door  harshly ;  give  neither  thy  hand  nor 
the  hem  of  thy  robe  to  be  kissed. 

However  high  placed  thou  mayst  be,  do  not  exact  servile 
homage.  It  is  thou  who  shouldst  prostrate  thy  countenance 
on  the  ground :  is  it  fitting  for  a  slave  to  have  his  hand  and 
his  garment  kissed?  Do  not  conceive  a  false  opinion  of  thy 
own  worth ;  as  much  as  possible,  do  not  take  precedence. 
Many  candidates  aspire  to  precedence,  and  perhaps  they  will 
obtain  it  before  thee.  Boast  to  no  one  of  thy  rank  and  impor- 
tance, for  fear  of  becoming  a  burden  to  him.  Salute  others 
with  mildness  and  modesty ;  oblige  no  one  to  remain  standing. 
If  thou  art  treated  with  honor,  there  is  nothing  better  ;  if  other- 
wise, dispute  not.  If  modesty  and  good  form  reign  in  thy 
conduct,  doubtless  consideration  will  be  shown  in  turn  to  thee. 
Modesty  is  the  ornament  of  the  countenance  of  faith ;  effron- 
tery is  pernicious  in  this  world  and  the  next.  Let  morality 
perfect  good-nature  in  thee ;  then  see  how  many  joys  there  are 
in  modesty ! 

Morality  is  the  ornament  of  man ;  without  it,  he  is  but  the 
slave  of  Satan.  Because  he  was  without  it,  the  envious  one 
was  driven  from  the  throne  of  celestial  mercy.  At  the  last 
judgment,  on  the  day  of  the  final  catastrophe,  thou  wilt  not 


ipo  NABI   efendi 

be  able  to  lift  thy  head  nor  turn  thy  eyes.  But  the  judgment 
of  God  is  omnipresent;  his  eye  embraces  all  that  is.  In  the 
eyes  of  his  omniscience  there  is  no  difference  between  this 
world  and  the  world  to  come.  The  Creator  is  beyond  the 
vicissitudes  of  fortune;  no  change  can  affect  him.  Knowing 
that  he  is  omnipresent  and  all-seeing,  how  dost  thou  dare  to 
break  the  laws  of  morality? 

Show  not  to  the  foolish  the  depths  of  thy  heart;  hearken 
unto  the  prophets,  practise  their  teachings.  Did  not  the  Apos- 
tle of  God  receive  the  order  to  act  with  wise  dissimulation? 
Without  it,  thou  wilt  have  no  repose,  says  the  Glory  of  the 
World,  the  Spring  of  all  Wisdom.  It  is  for  thee  as  a  protecting 
arm ;  without  its  aid,  how  many  quarrels  and  disputes !  It  is 
the  surest  rampart  against  all  the  troubles  of  the  world.  Do 
not  turn  like  the  wind  in  all  directions ;  like  the  sun,  do  not 
shine  on  the  doors  of  all.  Do  not  reveal  thy  secrets  to  strangers  ; 
open  not  to  fools  the  gate  to  thy  private  affairs.  Give  not  thy 
confidence  to  the  first  comer ;  do  not  retail  in  public  what  re- 
gards thee  alone.  Do  not  believe  that  all  men  are  sincere,  but 
do  not  look  upon  them  all  as  hypocrites.  Be  not  blinded  by 
the  praises  that  thou  dost  receive ;  be  not  loath  to  overcome 
thy  passions.  How  could  these  praises  lavished  on  thee  be 
free  from  hypocrisy? 

For  myself  I  see  no  difference  between  the  stings  of  the  wasp 
and  the  flattering  words  of  the  foolish.  If  they  have  nothing 
to  hope  from  thee,  they  will  never  gather  in  thy  house.  On  a 
festival  day,  do  not  go  to  anyone's  house  without  an  invita- 
tion, nor  to  the  homes  of  any  save  the  honorable.  Let  the 
gatherings  that  thou  dost  frequent  be  composed  of  pious  men. 
Let  them  not  be  meetings  of  corruption  and  perversity.  While 
thou  must  acknowledge  an  invitation,  wilt  thou  not  be  out 
of  place  where  thy  honor  is  compromised  ?  When  thou  art  in 
an  assembly,  abuse  neither  speech  nor  silence ;  use  in  turn  thy 
tongue  and  thy  ear.  Let  thy  words  like  pearls  be  as  brief  as 
possible.  Govern  thy  speech  according  to  this  motto :  brevity 
and  clearness.  Man  has  only  one  tongue  and  two  ears ;  speak, 
then,  little  and  listen  much. 

However,  if  a  garrulous  person  evinces  stupidity  the  silent 
man  ends  by  becoming  burdensome.  Speak  neither  too  little 
nor  too  much ;  keep  a  correct  medium.    Be  neither  stupid  nor 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  191 

importune.  He  who  holds  the  scales  of  good  education  said : 
to  speak  too  much  availeth  a  man  nothing.  Do  not  recite  in 
public  the  praises  of  God ;  prayer  should  be  hidden  in  solitude ; 
before  others  it  is  only  hypocrisy  and  importunity ;  a  terrible 
chastisement  will  be  its  just  award. 

Never  reply  harshly ;  when  thou  speakest  to  anyone  let  it 
be  with  sweet  courtesy.  Reproach  no  one  face  to  face  with 
his  hidden  faults ;  lend  to  his  discourse  a  friendly  ear.  Never 
expose  the  ignorance  of  anyone.  Why  cover  with  con- 
fusion a  creature  of  God?  Take  care  not  to  strike  with  the 
weapon  of  slander ;  an  eternal  penalty  will  be  its  punishment. 
The  penetration  of  him  who  has  given  thee  the  jewel  of  knowl- 
edge has  shown  him  that  ignorance  was  well  for  thy  brother. 
Such  is  the  providential  dispensation  of  the  Creator;  so  has 
ordained  the  justice  of  his  omnipotence.  Let  these  words  be 
the  ornament  of  thy  mouth ;  woe  unto  thee  if  thou  dost  not 
heed  them! 

Renounce  injustice  and  violence;  never  utter  harsh  words 
that  wound  the  heart.  Be  generous,  whatever  happens,  O  soul 
of  my  soul ;  let  thy  tongue  outrage  no  one !  To  wound  thy 
brother  to  the  heart  is  the  worst  of  sins,  the  greatest  of  all 
iniquities.  Labor  with  ardor  to  raise  up  those  who  have  fallen ; 
wouldst  thou  desire  to  overthrow  the  throne  of  the  Lord  ?  Will 
the  avenging  God  suffer  a  temple  to  be  ruined  from  dome  to 
foundation  ?  Light  of  mine  eyes !  be  convinced  that  there  is 
no  pardon  for  such  a  sin. 


CHAPTER    XVn 

Of  Lying  and  of  Hypocrisy 

O  THOU  who  dost  hearken  unto  my  teachings,  who  dost 
take  lessons  in  the  school  of  experience,  never  contract  the 
habit  of  lying  and  of  hypocrisy  which  sap  the  foundations  of 
concord.  Give  no  access  in  thy  heart  to  deception ;  be  sim- 
ple, ingenuous,  and  without  cunning.  Lying  and  deception  are 
pollutions  which  only  produce  deception  and  confusion.  Fore- 
runners of  the  works  of  Satan,  they  throw  their  authors  in 
eternal  chains.  Justly  abhorred  by  men,  they  only  produce 
disastrous  results. 


192  NABI   efendi 

What  is  more  horrible  than  never  to  open  the  mouth  for 
good,  and  to  excite  discord  by  false  allegations  ?  It  is  a  speech 
passed  into  a  proverb  that  the  perfidious  die  in  grief.  Infamy 
is  the  only  good  that  they  can  acquire ;  their  life  is  consumed 
in  sadness  and  grief.  Perfidy,  bad  faith,  lying,  hypocrisy,  per- 
versity of  mind,  and  corruption  of  heart ;  all  these  are  the  qual- 
ities of  the  damned,  but  they  become  not  the  true  faithful.  The 
great  teacher  of  religion  said :  The  true  Mussulman  is  he  whose 
hand  and  tongue  are  not  to  be  feared.  O  thou  who  dost  seek 
happiness,  should  not  the  reputation,  life,  and  riches  of  all 
believers  be  regarded  a  sacred  repository? 


CHAPTER    XVIII 
Forbidding  the  Practice  of  Astrology  and  Chiromancy 

O  THOU  who  dost  aspire  to  a  solidly  founded  happiness,  who 
seekest  the  ways  to  obtain  the  favors  of  Providence !  be  not 
addicted  to  the  sorceries  of  chiromancy  and  astrology ;  they 
draw  down  misfortune  on  those  who  practise  them ;  they  pre- 
cipitate them  to  ruin  :  instead  of  the  gold  they  hoped  to  receive, 
they  draw  forth  a  vile  metal.  Since  immutable  destiny  has 
ordained  all  that  can  come  to  pass,  forget  the  future  to  think 
only  of  the  present.  Why  be  troubled  in  advance  by  what  is 
not  yet,  and  sow  needlessly  in  thy  heart  the  seeds  of  anguish  and 
trouble  ? 

Believe  not  the  lying  words  of  chiromancy,  for  God  above 
knows  what  is  concealed.  Even  if  this  were  a  science,  the  man 
who  teaches  it  is  of  no  worth ;  his  knowledge  is  null,  his  words 
false,  his  mind  diseased.  Do  we  not  see  what  happens  to  these 
diviners  and  astrologers ;  is  there  a  single  one  who  prospers  ? 
Might  we  not  say  that  misfortune  is  the  satellite  of  all  these 
sorceries?  Leave,  then,  loans,  and  enjoy  thy  ready  money. 
What  wilt  thou  do  when  thou  shalt  have  been  plunged  in  all 
these  agonies  ?  Believe  my  words,  and  may  God  preserve  thee 
from  so  disastrous  a  blindness. 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  193 

CHAPTER    XIX 
Of  the  Defilement  of  Drunkenness 

O  PRECIOUS  pearl  of  the  jewel  casket  of  my  soul,  thou  whose 
image  is  stamped  on  my  heart!  be  not  seduced  by  the  rosy 
cup;  it  debases  man  in  the  eyes  of  his  fellows,  renders  him 
odious  to  all,  and  deprives  him  of  his  honor  and  respect.  Have 
no  connection  with  this  mother  of  all  vices,  who  engenders  all 
sorts  of  calamities.  What  a  shame  to  pass  for  a  debauchee, 
to  be  known  everywhere  for  thy  passion  for  wine !  Beware  of 
drunkenness,  of  that  stupefaction  which  causes  the  loss  of  rea- 
son. Since  the  all-wise  Creator  has  forbidden  this  excess,  be 
submissive  to  his  decision.  Sully  not  thyself  with  the  crime 
of  revolt,  have  no  cause  to  blush  before  thy  Creator.  Fear  to 
fall  in  the  snares  of  sin ;  if  that  occurs,  entreat  for  pardon. 

When  thou  dost  visit  an  assembly,  publicly  reproach  no 
one.  Do  not  jostle  those  who  are  drunk;  do  not  throw 
stones  at  those  without  reason.  Why  grieve  these  senseless 
persons,  when  thou  thyself  art  able  to  share  their  misfortune? 
Why  molest  them?  Some  time,  doubtless,  a  like  mishap  will 
befall  thee.  Avoid  reproaching  others  for  their  blindness  in 
sin,  and  declaring  thyself  free  from  stain.  O  soul  of  thy 
father,  know  well ;  when  thou  dost  accuse  thy  brother,  thou 
dost  render  thyself  guilty.  Must  thou  attack  with  violence 
the  errors  of  others,  and  turn  thy  eyes  from  thy  own  conduct  ? 
Repentance  always  follows  sin,  for  adversity  is  the  conse- 
quence of  crime.  One  day,  in  a  gathering,  at  the  house  of 
Djelal  eddin  Roumi,  someone  said  boastingly :  "  I  have  never 
seen  the  color  of  wine,  never  have  I  tasted  liquor,"  "  It  were 
better  still  not  to  drink  it  after  having  seen  it,"  answered 
this  holy  sage,  the  pole  of  good  conduct,  the  king  of  the  do- 
main of  grace,  shocked  at  this  proud  presumption. 

Sufifer  not  thyself  to  be  weakened  by  the  assaults  of  drunk- 
enness, do  not  deliver  thyself  up  to  the  seductions  of  hashish 
and  opium.  Bendj  ^  and  esrar  ^  are  still  more  destructive ;  he 
who  consumes  them  is  a  dunce.  These  drugs  make  a  man 
the  laughing-stock  of  other  men :  he  is  an  ape  in  human  form. 

*  Drugs. 
13 


194  NABI   efendi 

Obscure  not  the  light  of  thy  soul's  jewel ;  cover  not  with  dark- 
ness the  eye  of  thy  intelligence.  Wrap  not  opium  in  a  shroud 
during  the  Ramazan,  so  that  thy  body  may  become  as  the  tomb 
of  one  dead.  This  poison  makes  man  wicked  and  immoral ; 
perverts  him,  corrupts  his  heart,  alters  his  features,  and  be- 
wilders his  tongue.  When  intoxication  arrives,  he  hugs  him- 
self with  delight ;  when  it  is  dissipated,  he  is  beside  himself ; 
he  is  a  corpse  in  the  form  of  one  living:  the  brilliancy  of  his 
cheeks  is  blighted.  Even  though  there  appeared  no  exterior 
effects,  who  would  not  blush  to  be  called  Tcriakif 


CHAPTER   XX 

Of  the  Vanity  of  Adornment 

O  THOU  who  art  as  the  veil  behind  which  hides  seductive 
beauty,  thou  who  canst  not  be  captivated  by  the  wish  for  noto- 
riety, fasten  not  thy  heart  on  ornaments  and  adornment ;  do 
not  love  inordinately  pearls  and  precious  stones.  Doubtless 
the  sight  of  these  objects  rejoices  the  eye,  but  they  are  not 
suitable  for  men.  For  him,  gold  is  the  source  of  all  benefits ; 
for  woman,  it  is  the  ornament  of  the  body.  Leave  finery,  then, 
to  women,  make  a  generous  use  of  thy  riches.  Be  not  with 
thy  sparkling  garments  like  unto  a  gilded  box  of  perfume. 

Do  not  pride  theyself  on  the  splendor  of  thy  raiment,  but 
content  thyself  with  a  modest  outfit.  Although  moral  purity 
is  indeed  estimable,  still  the  fabrics  which  cover  thy  body 
should  be  spotless.  Do  not  torment  thyself  with  the  search 
of  all  manner  of  tissues  for  thy  adornment.  All  who  see 
anyone  arrayed  after  that  fashion  shrug  their  shoulders  in 
passing  him.  Whatever  be  the  costume  adopted  by  thy  equals, 
adopt  it  thyself.  Let  thy  garb  be  conformed  to  theirs,  how- 
ever different  thy  fortune  may  be.  Let  the  carpets  and  fringes 
of  thy  hangings,  and  all  the  objects  thou  dost  use,  be  not  dis- 
tinguished by  inordinate  luxury.  If  thou  art  able  to  wear 
sable,  is  not  the  fox's  fur  as  useful?  It  is  nothing,  after  all, 
but  the  skin  of  a  dead  animal ;  nothing  is  less  precious  in  the 
eyes  of  wise  men.     Luxury  in  furs  and  raiment  throws  man 


COUNSELS   TO   ABOUL   KHAIR  195 

into  ruinous  expenses ;  he  gets  into  debt  to  keep  up  his  pomp, 
and  adds  to  his  troubles  and  anxieties. 

Do  not  dissipate  thy  goods  inconsiderately :  prodigality  is  de- 
tested by  God.  A  wise  man,  to  teach  the  value  of  wealth,  used 
this  just  and  reasonable  comparison :  To  acquire  riches,  to  ac- 
cumulate a  capital  which  keeps  us  in  ease,  is  as  difficult  as  to 
tear  a  cliff  away  from  the  earth  and  carry  it  to  the  summit  of 
a  mountain ;  to  spend  our  money  is  as  easy  as  to  let  it  roll  to 
the  base.  Appreciate  after  that,  which  of  the  two  requires  the 
more  trouble,  and  weigh  all  thy  actions  in  a  just  scale.  ^Sus- 
pend from  thy  ear  the  pearl  of  my  words.-  O  soul  of  thy 
father,  beware  of  debt !  Debt  changes  a  man  completely  ;  were 
he  a  Plato,  it  makes  of  him  a  Medjnoun.  His  body  is  in  per- 
fect health,  his  morals  are  diseased ;  he  bears  on  his  neck  the 
yoke  of  his  creditor.  Debts  make  a  fool  of  a  wise  man ;  they 
enervate  the  most  heroic  hearts,  their  day  of  reckoning  is  like 
that  of  death,  and  they  lead  to  prison  as  death  to  the  tomb. 
What  is  that,  then,  when  a  harsh  creditor  throws  every  day 
trouble  into  the  heart  of  the  debtor,  when  usurious  interests, 
increasing  the  capital,  make  his  body  bend  under  an  unsup- 
portable  burden ;  when  the  creditor,  invoking  the  aid  of  the 
law,  calls  to  his  assistance  false  witnesses ;  when,  crushing  his 
victim  under  the  feet  of  violence,  he  dishonors  him  in  the 
eyes  of  everyone  until  that  moment  when,  unable  to  vindicate 
himself,  the  end  of  life  draws  near? 

O  light  of  mine  eyes,  may  Almighty  God  preserve  thee  from 
the  scourge  of  debt !  Better  is  it  a  thousand  times  to  sell  thy 
raiment  and  carpets,  to  go  to  rest  fasting  and  in  tatters,  than 
to  have  creditors  and  lose  thy  peace  in  litigation.  Lend  to  no 
one  at  usurious  interest ;  it  becomes  the  source  of  disputes. 
The  fear  of  God  is  rare  in  this  world :  people  are  always  ready 
to  conceal  and  deny  the  truth ;  the  most  incontestable  rights 
are  unceasingly  contested ;  all  are  busy  in  denying  or  taking 
oaths.  A  delay  is  demanded,  then  another.  The  money  which 
is  refused  thee  is  eaten  up  by  the  expenses  of  justice.  Is  thy 
debtor  the  relative  of  some  personage  ?  claim  thy  money  if  thou 
dost  dare ;  even  at  the  hour  of  payment  he  goes  to  see  that 
personage,  warms  his  zeal  by  some  present,  and  says  to  him : 
"  What,  lord,  thou  art  here,  and  yet  such  an  one  would  force  me 
to  pay !  "     Immediately  this  oppressor  mounts  his  horse,  and 


196  NABI    efendi 

goes  to  the  cadi  and  mufti ;  then  thou  wilt  be  threatened  with 
the  wrath  of  the  judges,  and  thou  wilt  be  continually  urged 
to  renounce  thy  pretensions.  If  all  these  artifices  have  no 
effect,  thy  adversary  will  stir  up  the  waves  of  lying,  will  raise 
up  false  witnesses,  will  produce  legal  deeds  and  manufactured 
fctvas.  Whatever  thou  mayst  do  in  the  vain  hope  of  winning 
thy  cause,  he  will  do  all  to  make  it  of  no  avail.  Such  is  the 
custom  of  our  timesr— Woe  to  him  who  lends  his  money  to  an- 
other L 


THE    ASCENSION    OF    MAHOMET 


[Translated  by  A.  P.  Conrteille  and  Robert  Arnot] 


INTRODUCTION 

IN  the  journal  of  Antoine  Galland,  the  celebrated  translator 
of  the  "  Arabian  Nights,"  we  read  on  page  29  of  M. 
Charles  Schefer's  edition :  "  Thursday,  January  14 :  I 
purchased  for  his  excellency  (M,  de  Nointel)  a  book  entitled 
'  The  Marvels  of  Creatures,'  written  in  old  Cufic  characters 
with  sixty-six  illustrations  representing  different  fabulous 
actions  of  Mahomet  for  the  establishment  of  his  pernicious 
doctrines,  such  as  his  ascension  to  heaven,  his  descent  to  hell, 
etc. ;  I  bought  it  for  twenty-five  piastres." 

This  manuscript  to  which  Galland,  although  he  was  of 
small  experience  in  such  matters,  gives  so  singular  a  title, 
was  brought  to  France  and  presented  to  Colbert  by  the  Mar- 
quis de  Nointel.  Colbert,  who  prided  himself  on  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  treasures  of  his  library,  commissioned  Francois 
Petis  de  la  Croix,  the  elder,  to  prepare  a  notice  of  his  new 
acquisition.  The  learned  Orientalist,  after  a  minute  examina- 
tion of  the  manuscript,  recognized  the  fact  that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  him  to  decipher  it.  He,  therefore,  contented 
himself  with  giving  a  detailed  description  of  the  curious  minia- 
tures with  which  the  manuscript  is  ornamented,  and  introduced 
it  with  the  following  note :  "  Translation  of  the  inscriptions  in 
the  Turkish  language  which  give  the  subjects  of  the  sixty-four 
illustrations  of  the  book  '  Leilet  el  Mirage,'  written  in  curious 
script,  in  the  library  of  Monseigneur  Colbert,  by  La  Croix,  In- 
terpreter and  Secretary  to  the  King.  '  The  Night  of  the  As- 
cension '  treats  of  the  Mahometan  faith  and  of  the  story  of 
Mahomet.  This  is  assumed  with  some  justice,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  Turkish  and  Arabic  inscriptions  which  it  con- 
tains, but  also  on  account  of  the  words  that  have  been  de- 
ciphered in  the  queer  script  in  which  it  is  written.  For  in- 
stance, the  profession  of  faith  of  the  Mahometans  in  the  forty- 

199 


200 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 


fourth  and  forty-fifth  illustrations,  which  is  painted  in  minia- 
ture capitals,  can  be  easily  read.  Its  script  is  fundamentally 
Arabic  and  is  ancient ;  not  that  which  we  ordinarily  call  ancient 
Arabic,  of  which  there  are  several  books  from  five  to  six  hun- 
dred years  old ;  but  another  ancient  script  called  Cufic,  used  by 
the  people  of  Cufa,  to  distinguish  them  from  the  other  Arabs, 
several  figures  of  their  letters  resembling  that  Chaldaic  script 
which  was  originally  Syriac." 


* 


THE  ASCENSION  OF  MAHOMET 

ALL  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  the  Ahnighty,  the  Ever- 
lasting, who  has  created  and  disposed  the  18,000  worlds, 
he  who  has  no  equal,  the  sole  pre-eminent  Being,  the 
sovereign  Lord,  the  most  high  God.  May  his  glory  shine  forth 
forever !  May  his  holy  name  be  hallowed !  There  is  no  other 
God  but  he.  A  hundred  thousand  prayers  and  blessings  upon 
the  Friend  of  the  most  high  God,  the  chief  of  the  124,000 
prophets,  Mahomet  the  chosen  of  God!  May  the  celestial 
graces  fall  in  abundance  on  the  children  and  the  four  compan- 
ions of  the  Prophet  of  God  (on  whom  be  benedictions  !).  May 
the  Lord  deign  to  favor  them  all ! 

Now  you  must  know  that  the  title  of  this  work  is  "  The 
Book  of  the  Ascension."  We  have  translated  it  from  that 
book  known  as  "  The  Way  of  Paradise  "  into  the  Turkish 
language,  that  a  greater  number  of  readers  may  derive  profit 
from  it.  Since  it  is  completely  translated,  we  hope,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  that  many  intelligences  may  be  thereby  enlight- 
ened. 

Imam  Bagavi  (may  the  divine  mercy  rest  doubly  on  him!) 
in  his  book  entitled  "  The  Beacon  Lights  "  has  narrated  an 
Arabic  tradition,  the  substance  of  which  is  as  follows : 

Enis  Ibn  Malek  tells  concerning  the  Prophet  that,  on  the 
night  of  the  ascension,  Gabriel  came  to  him,  leading  Borak,  all 
saddled  and  bridled.  When  the  Prophet  (blessed  be  his  name !) 
prepared  to  mount  him,  Borak  was  restive.  Whereupon  Ga- 
briel exclaimed.  Never  hath  a  nobler  before  God  than  Mahomet 
mounted  thee,  O  Borak !  At  which  words  Borak  sweated  from 
fright. 

Moreover,  one  of  the  Prophet's  companions,  named  Malik, 
gives  the  following  story  of  Oumm  Hani,  the  sister  of  AH: 
One  night,  the   Prophet    (on   whom  be   blessings    forever!) 

201 


202  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

lodged  in  our  house.  In  the  morning  he  arose,  and  said  to 
us:  There  happened  to  me  many  strange  adventures  last 
night.  What  were  they,  O  Mahomet?  we  asked.  I  will  tell 
you.  Listen  to  me.  Know  that  last  night  Gabriel  and 
Michael  came  to  me,  each  accompanied  by  66,000  angels,  and 
leading  with  them  an  animal  called  Borak,  saddled  and  bridled. 
Smaller  than  a  mule  and  larger  than  an  ass,  his  face  was  like 
that  of  a  human  being,  while  his  tail  and  hoofs  were  like  those 
of  a  cow.  (In  another  book  we  read  that  his  tail  and  hoofs 
resembled  a  goat's.)  He  had  the  rump  of  a  horse,  and  carried 
an  emerald  green  saddle,  a  harness  of  pearls,  and  turquoise 
stirrups.  Gabriel  approached  me  and  said :  O  Mahomet,  al- 
mighty God,  who  hath  overwhelmed  thee  with  his  gifts,  and 
hath  granted  thee  innumerable  favors,  hath  decreed  that  this 
night  thou  shalt  ascend  to  heaven  to  contemplate  there  the 
works  of  his  omnipotence,  and  to  receive  the  graces  whicJi  he 
desireth  to  bestow  on  thee. 

Hardly  had  I  heard  these  words,  continued  the  Prophet, 
when  I  sprang  up  to  perform  my  ablutions.  Gabriel  presented 
to  me  in  a  ewer  of  red  hyacinth  the  water  of  the  Kaoucer, 
which  flows  in  paradise,  and  when  I  finished  my  ablutions,  he 
poured  on  his  wings  the  water  I  had  used.  Why  dost  thou 
thus  ?  I  asked.  That  the  most  high  God  may  not  cast  me  into 
hell-fire  on  the  day  of  the  resurrection,  he  answered. 

When  I  left  the  house,  Michael,  leading  Borak  by  the  bridle, 
and  other  angels  carrying  66,000  luminous  banners,  around 
each  of  which  were  seven  divisions  of  angels — when  they  saw 
me  they  all  bowed  down,  and  I  returned  the  greeting.  Then 
I  mounted  Borak,  the  distance  between  the  strides  of  whom 
when  I  made  him  tread  the  earth  was  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach ;  and  when  I  turned  the  bridle  toward  heaven,  he  soared 
in  the  air  like  a  bird.  We  all  repaired  to  the  Holy  House  at  Je- 
rusalem, and  entered  the  Mosque  el  Aksa.  There  I  beheld  all 
the  prophets,  with  Abraham,  Moses,  and  Isaac  at  their  head. 
Advancing,  they  greeted  me,  and  exclaimed :  Rejoice,  O 
thou  whom  the  Almighty  hath  loaded  with  gifts ;  for  all 
that  thou  dost  ask  of  the  Lord  this  night  will  be  granted 
unto  thee. 

Then  Gabriel  made  the  call  to  prayer.  Abraham  the  prophet 
said  to  me:  O  Mahomet,  do  thou  perform  the  functions  of 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  203 

imam;  for  we  should  all  pray  under  thy  direction.  Then  I, 
as  imam,  prayed;  and  immediately  afterward,  implored  the 
blessing  of  God  for  my  followers,  and  all  the  prophets  raised 
their  hands  to  heaven,  crying  Amen ! 

0  Mahomet,  arise,  for  we  must  continue  our  journey,  said 
Gabriel,  and  arising,  I  saw  before  me  a  ladder  of  light,  resting 
on  the  earth  and  reaching  to  heaven.  Gabriel  bade  me  mount 
the  ladder^  and  I  obeyed,  while  repeating  the  invocation.  In  the 
name  of  the  merciful  and  pitying  God,  and  many  others.  Thus 
without  trouble  I  arrived  within  sight  of  heaven,  where  I  saw 
a  sea  so  immense  that  none  knew  its  extent  save  the  Lord  of 
all.  O  Gabriel,  I  said,  what  is  this  sea?  It  is  that  which  is 
called  the  Sea  of  Kaoucer,  he  answered;  which  is  suspended 
in  space  by  the  divine  omnipotence,  and  no  one  save  almighty 
God  knows  its  extent. 

When  we  had  traversed  this  sea  and  pursued  our  journeys 
by  the  order  of  God,  we  reached  the  first  heaven.  I  saw  that  it 
was  made  of  an  enamel  the  color  of  turquoise,  with  a  thickness 
which  it  would  take  500  years  to  cross.  Gabriel  knocked  at  the 
gate,  and  had  no  sooner  called  the  angel  intrusted  with  the  guard 
of  the  gate  than  he  asked.  Who  art  thou  ?  Gabriel,  bringing  Ma- 
homet with  me.  Apostle  of  God,  said  the  angel,  has  the  time  of 
thy  coming  then  arrived  ?  And  opening  the  gate  of  heaven  with 
great  demonstrations  of  joy,  he  saluted  me,  and  I  him;  then 
he  added:  Be  welcome,  O  Mahomet,  enter  and  honor  with 
thy  presence  the  celestial  world.  I  entered  and  I  perceived 
seven  choirs  of  angels  ready  to  receive  the  commands  of  him 
who  guarded  the  gate,  and  who  all  saluted  me.  There  I  saw  a 
personage  whom  I  did  not  know.  It  is  Adam  the  prophet,  said 
Gabriel,  greet  him. 

1  therefore  went  to  salute  him,  which  salute  he  returned, 
saying  to  me,  Be  welcome,  O  Mahomet,  thou  art  come  at  a 
seasonable  hour.  May  prosperity  be  with  thee  forever! 
Then  I  saw  that  Adam  (on  whom  be  blessings!)  glanced  to  his 
right,  and  smiled  with  a  satisfied  air;  then  looked  to  his  left, 
and  became  anxious  and  tearful.  What  aileth  Adam?  I 
asked  of  Gabriel.  At  the  right  hand  of  Adam,  answered  he, 
are  the  souls  of  the  prophets,  of  the  saints,  and  true  believers. 
While  contemplating  them  his  heart  is  joyous,  and  he  smiles. 
On  the  contrary,  at  his  left  are  the  souls  of  the  infidels,  of  the 


204  THE   ASCENSION  OF   MAHOMET 

perverse  and  incredulous.  The  sight  of  them  is  painful  to  him, 
and  he  weeps. 

I  passed  beyond,  and  saw  a  white  cock,  whose  head  was 
under  the  throne  of  God,  and  whose  feet  clutched  the  earth. 
Who  is  that  cock  ?  I  asked  Gabriel.  'Tis  an  angel,  said  he,  who 
counts  the  hours  of  the  day  and  night.  When  the  hour  of 
prayer  comes,  he  crows  and  recites  the  teşbih;  and  when  the 
cocks  on  earth  hear  him,  they  crow  in  their  turn  and  recite 
the  teşbih. 

Farther  on,  I  saw  an  angel,  who  was  half  snow  and  half 
fire.  Who  is  that  angel?  I  asked  of  Gabriel.  'Tis  the  angel 
whose  voice  is  so  sonorous  that  when  he  recites  the  teşbih  men 
say,  It  thunders !     He  had  two  tesbihs  in  his  hands. 

Farther  on,  there  was  a  white  sea.  What  is  this  sea?  I  asked 
of  Gabriel.  It  is,  said  Gabriel,  that  which  is  called  the  Sea  of 
Life. 

We  pushed  forward,  and  at  length  we  reached  the  second 
heaven.  I  saw  that  it  was  of  white  pearls.  Its  breadth  was 
that  of  a  500-years'  journey.  Gabriel  knocked  at  the  gate,  and 
a  voice  asked.  Who  art  thou?  I  am  Gabriel,  and  with  me  is 
Mahomet,  the  chosen  Prophet  of  God,  he  replied.  Immediately 
the  angel,  filled  with  joy,  opened  the  gate  of  this  heaven.  We 
entered  and  saluted  the  angel,  who  returned  our  salute,  and 
said :  Rejoice,  O  Mahomet,  for  the  Almighty  grants  thee  great 
graces  to-night !  Twenty  choirs  of  angels,  ready  to  receive 
the  orders  of  him  who  guarded  the  gate,  surrounded  us,  and 
saluted. 

Farther  on,  I  came  near  unto  a  gigantic  angel.  Who  is  that 
angel  ?  I  asked.  It  is  he  who  rules  the  concerns  of  all  creatures. 
At  a  distance  I  beheld  an  angel  who  had  seventy  heads,  and 
moreover,  seventy  tongues  in  each  of  his  heads.  With  each 
of  these  tongues,  he  was  reciting  seventy  kinds  of  teşbih.  Pass- 
ing beyond  this  place,  I  saw  two  personages.  Who  are  they? 
I  asked.  One,  said  Gabriel,  is  Jacob  the  prophet,  and  the  other 
is  the  prophet  Zachariah.  I  saulted  them,  and  they  said  to  me : 
O  Mahomet !  be  welcome !  Thou  dost  honor  with  thy  presence 
the  celestial  world.  May  the  gifts  of  the  most  high  God  make 
thee  to  prosper ! 

Going  on,  I  saw  a  white  sea,  on  the  shores  of  which  a  multi- 
tude of  angels  recited  the  teşbih. 


THE    ASCENSION    OF    MAHOMET  205 

At  length  we  reached  the  third  heaven,  where  Gabriel, 
knocking  at  the  gate,  had  no  sooner  called  than  the  angel  who 
was  the  sentinel  of  the  gate  asked,  Who  art  thou?  I  am  Ga- 
briel, and  Mahomet  is  with  me.  I  saw  that  this  heaven  was  of 
red  hyacinth.  Then  the  angel  said  to  me.  Be  honored,  O  Ma- 
homet, with  the  gifts  of  almighty  God!  There  were  thirty 
choirs  of  archangels  under  the  orders  of  this  sentinel  of  the 
gate,  and  30,000  angels  beside  were  ready  to  obey  each  arch- 
angel. All  saluted  me,  which  I  returned,  and  then  they  wished 
me  well.  Going  on,  I  saw  two  personages  in  a  delightful  spot. 
The  countenance  of  one  of  them  was  as  the  full  moon.  Who 
are  those  persons?  I  inquired.  They  are,  said  Gabriel,  the 
prophets  Jacob  and  Joseph.  I  approached  them,  and  exchanged 
greetings,  whereupon  they  said :  Welcome,  O  Mahomet !  The 
Lord  hath  promised  us  that  we  should  behold  Mahomet ;  a 
hundred  thousand  thanksgivings  to  him  for  that  we  have  gazed 
upon  thy  blessed  face !  All  that  thou  shalt  beg  of  him  to-night, 
he  will  grant  unto  thee. 

Withdrawing  from  them,  I  perceived  two  more  persons.  I 
questioned  Gabriel,  who  answered.  One  is  David  the  prophet, 
and  the  other  is  Solomon  the  prophet.  I  greeted  them,  and 
they  returned  the  salute,  saying,  O  Mahomet!  enjoy  the  gifts 
of  the  Lord,  and  forget  us  not !  Then  they  added :  Thanks 
to  God,  we  have  seen  thy  ever-glorious  face !  And  they  wished 
me  well.  Passing  on,  I  saw  on  the  shore  of  a  vast  sea  a  gigantic 
angel  seated  on  a  throne.  He  had  seventy  heads.  A  multitude 
of  angels  seated  on  thrones  surrounded  him,  and  all  were  re- 
citing the  teşbih. 

Farther  on,  we  arrived  at  the  fourth  heaven.  Gabriel 
knocked  on  the  gate  and  called.  The  angel  who  guarded  it 
opened  it  joyfully,  and  said  to  me,  bowing  down.  Welcome,  O 
Mahomet !  Be  thou  honored  with  the  gifts  of  the  most  high 
God! 

Journeying  farther,  we  reached  the  fifth  heaven,  which  is 
made  of  gold.  When  Gabriel  had  knocked  at  the  gate  and 
called,  the  angel  joyfully  opened  it,  and  saluted  me,  saying. 
Be  thou  welcome,  O  Mahomet,  thou  wilt  be  honored  with 
the  gifts  of  the  Lord !  And  he  wished  me  well.  After  an 
interval,  I  beheld  together  the  prophets  Ishmael,  Isaiah,  Ha- 
roun,  and  Lot.    I  greeted  them,  and  they  said  to  me :     What- 


2o6  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

ever  tliou  dost  beg  this  night,  O  Mahomet,  God  will  grant  it 
unto  thee  without  excepting  anything ;  ask  of  him  the  salvation 
of  the  souls  of  all  those  who  follow  thy  laws. 

Pursuing  my  way,  I  came  to  a  sea  of  fire.  On  the  day  of 
the  resurrection,  said  Gabriel,  this  sea  of  fire  will  be  thrown 
into  hell,  and  those  who  dwell  in  hell  will  be  tormented  by  this 
fire. 

We  passed  this  place,  and  reached  the  sixth  heaven,  which 
is  made  of  pearls.  Gabriel  knocked  at  the  gate.  The  guarding 
angel  opened  it,  greeted  me,  and  said,  Be  thou  welcome,  O 
Mahomet;  thou  dost  crown  us  with  joy  by  coming  to  visit 
the  celestial  world ;  be  thou  crowned  with  the  graces  of  the 
Lord!  And  he  called  down  upon  me  the  blessings  of  God. 
Sixty  choirs  of  angels,  standing  around  him,  recited  the 
teşbih. 

Farther  on  I  saw  a  keuchk  on  which  stood  a  person  entirely 
veiled,  and  surrounded  by  a  great  multitude.  Who  is  that? 
I  asked.  It  is  the  prophet  Moses  (on  whom  be  blessings!) 
answered  Gabriel.  I  went  to  him,  and  saluted  him.  He  sa- 
luted me  in  his  turn  and  said,  O  Mahomet,  be  thou  welcome! 
Happy  is  thy  arrival !  Proceed,  said  Gabriel  to  me,  ascend 
higher.  At  these  words,  Moses  began  to  weep.  Wherefore 
dost  thou  weep  ?  asked  Gabriel  of  him.  Alas !  I  imagined  that 
my  place  and  rank  were  above  all ;  and  here  is  Mahomet,  com- 
ing after  me,  who  surpasseth  me  by  far ;  his  followers  will  be 
more  numerous  than  mine,  and  they  will  enter  before  them  into 
paradise.  Then  the  august  voice  of  almighty  God  spoke  to 
Moses  in  these  words :  O  Moses !  I  have  made  thee  illustrious 
among  all  by  speaking  to  thee  face  to  face ;  I  have  delivered  thee 
from  the  malice  of  thine  enemies.  Why  not  return  thanks  unto 
me  for  the  gifts  thou  hast  received  from  me  ?  I  passed  on,  and  I 
saw  the  prophet  Noah  and  the  prophet  Edra.  I  exchanged 
salutations  with  them,  and  they  loaded  me  with  benedictions : 
Be  thou  welcome,  O  Mahomet !  they  said,  with  demonstrations 
of  joy. 

Pursuing  our  journey,  we  arrived  at  the  seventh  heaven. 
Gabriel,  going  before  me,  knocked  at  the  gate  and  called.  The 
angel  who  guarded  it  opened  with  joy,  and  we  entered.  Then 
he  said  to  me :  Welcome,  O  Mahomet !  who  dost  honor  us 
with  thy  visit!     Mayst  thou  be  honored  in  thy  turn!     There 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 


207 


were  seventy  choirs  of  archangels  under  the  command  of  the 
angel  who  guarded  this  heaven  made  of  light.  There  remained 
vacant  not  the  smallest  space ;  the  angels  occupied  the  whole 
heaven.  We  passed  through  this  place  and  came  to  a  vast 
kcuchk,  before  which  was  erected  a  great  chair  of  emerald 
green.  A  person  with  a  white  beard,  seated  in  this  chair,  was 
leaning  on  the  kcuchk.  Who  is  he?  I  asked.  It  is  thy  an- 
cestor, the  prophet  Abraham,  said  Gabriel.  I  went  to  salute 
him.  He  returned  the  salute,  saying,  O  pre-eminent  prophet, 
be  welcome !  May  God  bless  thy  coming !  Gabriel  said  to  me : 
Behold  thy  residence  and  that  of  all  those  who  follow  in  thy 
footsteps.  Then  he  added,  Enter  that  house  and  visit  it,  for 
every  day  70,000  angels  come  to  visit  it.  I  also  saw  a  band 
of  creatures,  half  of  whom  were  in  white  tunics,  and  the  other 
half  in  white  tunics  striped  with  black.  They  are  those  who 
follow  thee,  said  Gabriel.  Then,  addressing  those  who  wore 
white  tunics,  he  said.  Enter  with  your  Prophet.  And  he  per- 
mitted them  to  enter,  but  he  refused  entrance  to  those  garbed 
in  the  tunics  striped  with  black  and  white. 

Passing  on,  I  saw  a  sea  as  black  as  ebony.  On  beholding 
it,  my  sight  became  as  it  were  obscured  with  gloomy  shadows. 
In  this  sea,  I  saw  an  innumerable  throng  of  angels.  I  in- 
quired of  Gabriel :  Why  is  the  water  of  this  sea  black  ?  No 
one  save  the  Lord  of  all  knows  the  nature  of  this  sea,  he  an- 
swered. On  the  shore  I  saw  a  gigantic  angel,  his  head  touch- 
ing the  base  of  the  throne  of  God,  and  his  feet  resting  on  the 
earth,  and  able  to  ingulf  in  his  mouth  the  seven  strata  of  the 
earth.  At  some  distance  I  saw  another  angel  of  gigantic  pro- 
portions, having  seventy  heads  as  large  as  this  entire  lower 
world.  Each  of  these  heads  possessed  seventy  tongues.  Night 
and  day  he  recited  the  tcshih  in  honor  of  the  Most  High. 
Near  him  was  an  angel  so  enormous  that  if  the  water  of  all 
the  earth's  seas  had  been  poured  into  one  of  his  eyes,  it  would 
not  have  sufficed  to  fill  it.  Farther  on  was  an  angel  bear- 
ing 10,000  wings.  Beside  him  was  a  sea,  in  the  waters  of 
which  he  plunged  only  to  come  forth  immediately  shaking 
himself.  Every  one  of  the  drops  which  fell  from  his  dripping 
wings  became  an  angel  by  the  creative  power  of  God.  Not 
far  distant  was  another  angel  with  four  heads :  one  resembling 
that  of  a  man,  another  like  that  of  a  lion,  another  still  resem- 


2o8  THE    ASCENSION    OF   MAHOMET 

bling  the  head  of  the  bird  houmai,  and  another  hke  that  of 
a  bull. 

Proceeding,  we  attained  the  sidret-el-mountchâ.  That  which 
is  thus  called  is  a  large  tree,  some  of  whose  branches  are  of 
emerald,  others  of  pearls,  with  foliage  similar  to  elephants' 
ears.  Its  fruits  are  of  considerable  size.  From  the  foot  of  this 
tree  gush  four  springs  which  flow  into  as  many  canals.  Two 
of  these  canals  are  open  to  the  skies,  but  the  two  others  are 
covered.  Of  the  first  two,  one  is  the  Nile  flowing  through 
the  city  of  Misr,  and  the  other  is  the  Frat,  which  flows  through 
the  city  of  Koufa.  As  to  the  other  two  whose  beds  are  subter- 
ranean, one  is  the  Selsebil,  which  flows  through  paradise ;  and 
the  other  pours  into  the  basin  of  the  Kaoucer.  The  water  of 
these  two  rivers  is  whiter  than  milk  and  sweeter  than  honey. 
Angels  coming  toward  me,  greeted  me,  and  brought  three  gob- 
lets, which  they  presented  to  me.  In  one  was  milk,  in  another 
wine,  and  in  the  third  was  honey. 

I  took  the  one  containing  milk,  and  drank  it.  Seeing  that  I 
did  not  touch  the  others,  the  angels  said  to  me :  Thou  hast  done 
well  to  choose  the  milk  and  to  drink  it,  for  all  those  who  fol- 
low in  thy  footsteps  will  go  forth  from  this  world  with  faith. 
I  was  overjoyed  at  these  words.  Then  Gabriel  said,  I  shall 
not  go  farther.  And,  pausing  at  this  place,  he  returned  to  his 
own  form.  I  saw  him  stretch  his  600  wings,  with  one  shoulder 
in  the  east  and  the  other  in  the  west.  I  said  to  him.  What 
form  is  this,  O  Gabriel?  It  is  mine,  he  replied,  that  in  which 
I  was  created. 

As  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  the  creatures  who  dwell 
on  the  surface  of  the  earth  do  not  go  beyond  the  sidret-el- 
mountchâ,  they  have  given  him  the  name  of  Gabriel,  which 
signifies,  the  lotus  of  the  last  boundary.  Then  he  added :  O 
Mahomet,  approach  now  as  near  as  it  is  permitted  unto  thee 
to  approach,  and  prostrate  thyself. 

I  therefore  advanced,  and  when  I  reached  that  point  nearest 
to  the  throne,  I  prostrated  myself  to  the  earth,  and  I  saw  the 
supreme  Lord  with  the  eyes  of  my  heart.  At  that  moment  I 
heard  the  voice  of  God  saying  to  me :  Lift  up  thy  head,  and 
glorify  my  name !  Raising  my  head  immediately,  I  cried, 
Etlaiyat  lillahi  ouessalaouât  ouetta'ibaf,  which  means,  Let  all 
be  for  God,  whether  it  be  the  praises,  homages,  and  tesbihs 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  209 

Uttered  by  the  tongue,  or  acts  of  devotion,  such  as  alms,  tithes, 
and  offerings  performed  with  the  aid  of  temporal  goods. 
After  which  I  heard  these  words :  Essclam  ale'ika  e'iuânnebi 
one  rahmet  ttllah  otic  berckâtoulıou,  which,  being  interpreted,  is, 
Mayst  thou  be  delivered  from  the  terrors  of  the  next  world 
and  from  its  chastisements !  Mercy,  benedictions,  and  pros- 
perity be  upon  thy  head !  Then  I  said :  Esselâm  ale'ina  oue 
ala  ihâdillahissâlihina,  which  signifies,  May  the  salvation 
which  Cometh  from  God  and  his  divine  mercy  be  with  me  and 
with  his  faithful  servants !  At  the  same  time,  all  the  angels, 
seeing  that  I  had  been  accorded  the  honor  of  approaching  so 
near  to  the  divine  Majesty,  exclaimed: 

Ach'  adou  en  la  ilaha  illâllahou  oue  ach'  adou  enne  Ma- 
hometan abdouhou  oue  reçoulouhou,  that  is.  We  bear  witness 
that  the  supreme  Lord  is  the  only  living  God,  and  that  there 
is  no  other  God  but  he.  Furthermore  we  testify  that  Ma- 
homet is  his  servant,  and  his  chosen  Prophet! 

Then  the  Lord  said  to  me :  O  Mahomet,  I  impose  upon  thee 
fifty  prayers  to  be  said  within  the  space  of  a  day  and  a 
night ;  go  and  prescribe  these  fifty  prayers  for  them  who  fol- 
low in  thy  footsteps. 

I  bowed  down  before  the  divine  Will,  and,  retracing  my 
steps,  I  betook  myself  to  the  prophet  Moses  (on  whom  be 
blessings  forever!).  He  asked  me:  Mahomet,  what  hath  the 
Lord  required  of  thee  ?  O  Moses,  I  answered,  he  hath  required 
fifty  prayers  to  be  said  in  the  space  of  a  day  and  a  night. 

Mahomet,  he  continued,  thy  followers  will  never  recite  those 
fifty  prayers.  I,  who  went  before  thee,  have  known  and  proved 
many  men,  and  I  have  received  many  blows  from  the  people 
of  Israel.  Go,  then,  and  proffer  another  request.  It  may  be 
that  the  Lord  God,  out  of  his  great  mercy,  will  excuse  thee 
from  some  of  these  fifty  prayers. 

I  therefore  returned  and  groaned  in  entreaty  before  the 
throne  of  God.  Mahomet,  said  a  voice,  I  remit  ten  of  the  fifty 
prayers.    Thou  shalt  therefore  only  recite  forty. 

Again  I  turned  back  to  Moses,  and  told  him  what  the  Lord 
God  had  said. 

Go  once  more,  he  answered,  pray  and  lament ;  perchance 
God  will  make  another  concession. 

I  went  and  prostrated  myself,  bewailing  my  fate.    The  Lord, 
14 


2IO  THE   ASCENSION    OF   MAHOMET 

hearkening  favorably  unto  me,  remitted  another  ten  prayers 
and  only  demanded  thirty  of  me.     Moses,  on  my  return,  said, 

0  Mahomet,  turn  again  to  God,  who  will  surely  make  an- 
other concession.  Thirty  prayers  are  yet  too  many.  I  went, 
I  entreated,  I  presented  my  request.  I  obtained  the  remis- 
sion of  another  decade,  and  was  ordered  to  say  twenty  only. 

It  is  still  too  much,  said  Moses,  when  I  had  rejoined  him. 
Thy  followers  cannot  acquit  themselves  of  the  obligation,  and 
will  be  deemed  rebellious  before  the  Lord.  Seek  again ;  doubt- 
less thou  wilt  obtain  what  thou  askest. 

1  went,  I  implored,  and  God  excused  me  from  ten  more 
prayers ;  there  remained  now  but  ten.  I  came  back  to  Moses. 
O  Mahomet,  ten  prayers  are  still  too  many ;  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  the  faithful  cannot  say  them.  All  that  thou  dost  ask  this 
night,  God  will  grant  unto  thee.  Arise,  therefore,  and  ask 
again.  I  went,  and  entreated,  moaning,  and  God  excused  me 
from  five  more  prayers.  When  I  returned  to  Moses,  he  said : 
If  thou  shouldst  return,  the  Lord  God  would  not  desire  to 
send  thee  away  disappointed  in  thy  hopes,  but  he  will  doubt- 
less come  to  the  rescue  of  thy  followers. 

I  rejoiced  to  have  obtained  so  great  favors,  and  was  satis- 
fied. 

Then  the  voice  of  the  Almighty  said  to  me :  O  Mahomet,  to 
him  of  thy  followers  who  will  recite  in  the  ardor  of  faith  these 
five  prayers,  I  promise  to  give  the  recompense  due  to  fifty. 
Nor  is  this  all ;  should  one  of  the  faithful  form  the  resolution 
to  perform  a  good  work,  I  will  order  the  angels  to  inscribe 
ten  good  deeds  on  the  record  of  his  life.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
he  commit  an  evil  deed,  I  will  command  it  to  be  inscribed  as 
one  only.  I  will  blot  out  the  sins  of  those  who  do  penance 
with  a  sincere  heart,  and  to  those  who  shall  fast  during  thirty 
consecutive  days  I  will  grant  for  each  day  the  reward  of  ten, 
which  will  make  a  total  of  300  for  the  thirty  days.  Whoever 
will  fast  six  days  in  the  month  of  Schevval,  I  will  grant  him 
for  each  day  the  recompense  of  sixty  days,  so  that  he  shall 
receive  the  reward  for  360  days  of  abstinence.  And  to  all 
these  I  will  grant  paradise  at  their  deaths. 

I  said  unto  the  Lord  God :  My  God,  thou  hast  given  sov- 
ereignty over  all  to  Solomon,  the  miraculous  rod  to  Moses,  and 
to  Isaiah  the  power  to  bring  the  dead  to  life. 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  211 

The  Voice  of  Voices  replied :  O  Mahomet,  I  have  raised 
thee  above  all.  Moreover,  I  have  suffered  all  thy  followers  to 
approach  me,  and  I  will  grant  them  participation  in  my  mercy. 

And  the  voice  of  the  Most  High  pronounced  unto  me 
90,000  utterances :  30,000  on  laws,  30,000  on  the  spiritual  life, 
and  30,000  on  the  essence  of  truth.  Then  I  was  given  this 
commandment :  Proclaim  unto  all  the  30,000  utterances  con- 
cerning the  laws ;  tell  those  on  the  spiritual  way  to  those  whom 
thou  desirest,  but  not  to  those  whom  thou  wilt  reject ;  repeat 
not  importunely  to  anyone  the  words  on  the  essence  of  truth. 

Having  passed  beyond,  I  saw  700,000  (seventy  touman) 
curtains,  some  of  light,  others  of  fire,  and  of  hyacinth ;  some 
of  pearls,  and  others  of  gold.  Each  one  has  seven  choirs  of 
angels  for  guardians.  I  had  no  sooner  reached  a  curtain  when 
an  angel,  advancing,  took  me  by  the  hand  and  made  me  cross 
it.  Having  traversed  in  this  manner  70,000  curtains,  I  per- 
ceived the  arch,  the  celestial  throne.  It  was  so  large  that  in 
comparison  with  it  heaven  and  earth  with  its  seven  strata  are 
as  nothing.  God  created  the  arch  of  red  hyacinth.  A  multi- 
tude of  angels  circled  around  it,  reciting  the  teşbih  night  and 
day  in  honor  of  the  Lord  of  all.  I  saw  also,  ranged  in  circles 
around  the  arch  700,000  tents,  each  one  of  the  dimensions  of 
this  lower  world,  and  the  distance  from  each  tent  to  the  next 
was  a  space  the  breadth  of  which  was  a  50,000-years'  journey. 
In  each  tent  were  fifty  choirs  of  angels  all  adoring  God ;  some 
standing,  others  seated,  and  others  bowing  their  foreheads 
to  the  ground  while  they  were  reciting  the  teşbih.  I  passed 
through  the  tents,  and  was  preparing  to  take  off  my  sandals, 
intending  to  ascend  the  arch,  when  I  heard  the  voice  of  the 
Almighty  saying: 

0  Mahomet,  remove  not  thy  sandals,  that  their  contact 
may  bless  my  throne. 

1  ascended  the  arch,  and  prostrating  myself  to  the  earth 
before  the  Lord  God,  I  cried,  Glory  and  praise  to  thee  for- 
ever!    Then  I  returned. 

Now  must  be  told  how  the  Prophet  (on  whom  be  blessings 
forever!)  visited  paradise  and  hell. 

In  his  book  entitled  "  The  Beacon  Lights,"  Imam  Bagavi 
(may  the  mercy  of  God  be  with  him!)  has  quoted  this  hadis 


212  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

written  in  Persian,  and  which  is  as  follows :  "  Paradise  is  con- 
quered by  difficult  tasks,  such  as  prayer,  fasting,  pilgrimage, 
and  holy  wars.  To  enter  it  we  must  bind  ourselves  to  spiritual 
exercises  and  be  exact  in  all  the  practices  of  the  true  religion. 
Hell,  too,  is  gained  by  the  toils  of  concupiscence  and  by  all 
kinds  of  desires." 

The  Prophet  (blessings  upon  him!)  also  says:  When  the 
Lord  God,  after  having  created  Paradise,  had  adorned  it  with 
all  kinds  of  delights,  Gabriel  was  commanded  to  go  to  jour- 
ney through  it.  Gabriel  examined  it,  and  saw  that  God,  by 
an  effort  of  his  omnipotence,  had  prepared  for  his  servants 
a  multitude  of  delights  which  no  eye  had  ever  seen,  and  no 
ear  had  ever  heard  described.  O  my  God !  he  exclaimed,  who- 
ever hears  the  description  of  paradise,  will  have  no  rest  until 
he  will  have  attained  it. 

Then  it  was  that  the  Almighty  surrounded  the  four  sides  of 
paradise  with  irksome  tasks ;  such  as  fasting,  prayer,  pilgrim- 
ages, holy  wars,  moderation  of  desires  (contentment),  and 
watches  consecrated  to  adoration.  It  was  ordained  by  the 
supreme  Will  that  no  one  should  enter  paradise  unless  he  had 
passed  through  these  arduous  trials.  Gabriel  knowing  this, 
said :  If  it  is  thus,  no  one  will  have  access  to  this  abode  of 
delights. 

Likewise,  when  God  had  created  hell,  he  called  to  Gabriel, 
Go,  Gabriel,  and  visit  hell  also.  Gabriel  beheld  in  hell  all  kinds 
of  punishments  and  tortures  which  no  one  could  ever  describe. 
O  my  God!  he  said,  no  one  will  ever  enter  this  hell. 

Therefore  the  Lord  surrounded  the  four  sides  of  hell  with 
all  kinds  of  inordinate  desires,  with  the  passion  for  wine, 
unlawful  intercourse  with  women,  unbridled  love  of  lucre, 
tyranny,  and  the  exaggerated  search  for  pleasure.  At  this 
sight,  Gabriel  exclaimed.  My  God,  I  see  well  indeed  that  no 
one  will  escape  this  hell. 

Now  let  us  return  to  the  subject.  When  the  Prophet  re- 
turned, after  having  been  granted  access  to  the  throne,  Gabriel 
received  this  commandment  from  the  Lord : 

Guide  my  friend  Mahomet  that  he  may  see  the  marvels  of 
the  paradise  I  have  prepared  for  believers ;  then  let  him  also 
contemplate  the  various  punishments  of  hell  that  I  have  ar- 
ranged for  the  wicked. 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  213 

Whereupon  Gabriel  said  unto  me :  O  Mahomet,  thou  must 
first  visit  the  basin  of  Kaoucer,  which  was  created  for  thee ; 
then  we  shall  see  paradise. 

We  proceeded  then  immediately  to  the  Kaoucer.  On  the 
edge  of  this  basin  I  perceived  a  great  quantity  of  koubbeh, 
that  is  domes,  some  of  pearls  and  others  of  red  hyacinth  or  of 
emerald.  The  slime  of  these  waters  is  of  musk  and  the  peb- 
bles which  carpet  the  bottom  of  the  basin  are  of  red  hyacinth. 
The  extent  of  the  basin  of  Kaoucer  is  that  of  a  month's  jour- 
ney. The  waters  are  whiter  than  milk,  sweeter  than  honey, 
and  more  highly  perfumed  than  musk.  All  around  the  basin, 
and  more  numerous  than  the  stars  in  heaven,  there  are  golden 
vases  and  goblets  of  silver,  of  hyacinth,  of  emerald,  and  of 
pearls  for  those  who  wish  to  quench  their  thirst.  Who- 
ever drinks  of  this  water  never  again  feels  the  pangs  of 
thirst. 

In  the  Word  (the  Koran),  the  supreme  Lord  thus  expresses 
himself :  "  Ana  ate'inakal  kaoucera  fe  salli  li  rehbika  ouenhar 
inna  chaniyaka  houa  bilabtar,"  which,  being  interpreted,  means: 
"  O  Mahomet,  I  have  given  thee  beside  many  goods  the  basin 
of  Kaoucer.  Pray,  then,  in  honor  of  thy  Benefactor,  and  sacri- 
fice victims  unto  him.  Whoever  saith  unto  thee  that  thou  art 
abtar  [maimed]  will  be  so  himself,  and  not  thee." 

The  Prophet  had  by  Khadija  a  son  named  Abd  Allah,  who 
died  at  an  early  age.  A  person  called  As,  having  been  to  see 
the  Prophet  to  tender  him  his  condolences,  was  returning  to 
his  home,  when  he  met  on  the  way  some  infidels  of  the  tribe 
of  Kora'ichites.  As,  they  said  to  him,  w^here  hast  thou  been? 
I  have  been  to  see  that  abtar  to  tender  him  my  condolences,  he 
answered.  Now  it  is  a  custom  among  the  Arabs  to  call 
abtar  he  whose  son  dies  at  an  early  age;  indeed  the  meaning 
of  this  term  is  really  who  hath  no  offspring,  no  end.  When 
the  Prophet  (on  whom  be  blessings  forever!)  learned  that 
the  heathens  had  treated  him  as  abtar,  he  was  thereby  much 
grieved.     Then  Gabriel  brought  him  this  sürate. 

O  Mahomet,  the  supreme  Lord  giveth  thee  the  basin  of 
the  Kaoucer ;  evidence  thy  gratitude  by  prayers,  supplications, 
and  offerings.  Whoever  doth  treat  thee  as  abtar  will  merit 
himself  that  epithet ;  he  will  be  honored  neither  in  this  world 
nor  in  the  next.     As  for  thee,  we  will  raise  thee  to  such  a 


2  14  ^^^   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

degree  of  veneration  that  until  the  day  of  resurrection  thy 
name  shall  be  invoked  after  mine  in  prayer. 

When  the  Prophet  heard  these  words  of  the  sover- 
eign Lord,  his  heart  was  filled  with  joy.  Gabriel  also  said: 
O  Mahomet,  the  first  to  drink  of  the  water  of  the  Kaoucer 
will  be  those  who  threw  in  their  lot  with  thee  when  thou  didst 
go  from  Mecca  to  Medina,  and  who  accompanied  thee  to  this 
city,  leaving  behind  their  wives  and  children.  Next  will  come 
those  who  have  renounced  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  the 
small,  the  humble,  the  poor,  and  thy  companions  who  were 
esteemed  of  no  account.  On  the  four  sides  of  the  basin  will 
be  stationed  Abou  Bekr,  Omar,  Osman,  and  Ali.  Whoever 
hates  one  of  thy  companions,  will  not  be  given  to  drink  of 
this  water. 

Afterward  Gabriel  said,  O  Mahomet,  now  thou  must  visit 
paradise.  When  we  reached  its  gates,  Gabriel  knocked.  Who 
art  thou  ?  asked  the  angel  who  guarded  the  gate.  Gabriel,  and 
with  me  is  Mahomet  the  chosen  Prophet  of  God. 

Immediately  the  angel  joyfully  opened  the  gate  and  wel- 
comed us.  In  a  garden  created  by  the  Lord  of  All  for  those 
who  follow  in  my  footsteps,  I  saw  a  multitude  of  houris.  Some 
were  seated  on  thrones,  and  others  sportively  clasped  each  oth- 
er's hands.  Birds  fluttered  around  and  finally  alighted  on  the 
heads  of  these  houris.  On  a  certain  day  (the  day  of  Azineh, 
Friday)  they  mount  goats  and  go  to  visit  each  other,  and  spend 
their  time  in  laughter  and  amusements ;  then  they  separate 
after  an  exchange  of  good  wishes. 

I  saw  also  a  kenchk  in  the  centre  of  the  gardens.  A  mul- 
titude of  houris  were  laughing  and  dallying  on  the  lawns  which 
surrounded  it.  To  whom  does  that  keuchk  belong?  I  asked. 
To  Omar,  answered  the  houris,  among  whom  I  recognized 
Romeiica,  the  wife  of  Talka. 

Is  it  indeed  thou  whom  I  see  here,  O  Rome'ica  ?  I  said. 

It  is  I  indeed,  O  Prophet.  The  Most  High  hath  shown 
mercy  unto  me,  and  hath  granted  me  the  grace  of  entrance 
into  paradise. 

When  the  Prophet  was  asked  for  details  concerning  the 
dwellers  in  paradise,  he  answered :  These  fortunate  beings 
are  of  the  stature  of  Adam,  whose  height  was  sixty  cubits,  and 
of  the  age  of  the  prophet  Isaac,  who  was  thirty  years  of  age 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  215 

when  he  was  on  earth ;  they  are  as  handsome  as  the  prophet 
Joseph,  and  in  their  bearing  they  are  Hke  unto  the  prophet 
Jacob,  on  whom  be  blessings  forever !  They  have  neither  hair 
nor  beards,  and  their  eyes  are  anointed  with  surmch.  In  their 
hearts  there  exists  neither  envy  nor  hate.  They  are  no  more 
susceptible  to  pain  than  to  old  age,  and  they  are  subject  to 
none  of  the  necessities  of  human  nature.  As  for  the  houris, 
whatever  the  number  of  the  tunics  they  wear,  they  are  all 
transparent;  one  beneath  the  other;  their  flesh  is  seen  under 
the  tunics,  and  their  bones  beneath  the  flesh,  and  even  the  mar- 
row of  the  bones  appears  distinctly.  Nor  do  the  houris  enter- 
tain sentiments  of  envy.  Each  follower  of  the  true  faith  has 
also  a  tent  entirely  of  gold,  sixty  igadj  (300  miles)  in  diameter. 

Gabriel  next  said  to  me :  O  Mahomet,  now  that  thou  hast 
seen  the  dwelling  place  of  thy  friends,  it  is  time  to  visit  the 
spot  destined  for  the  enemies  of  the  most  high  Lord. 

Then  did  I  see  that  hell  was  a  terrible  and  horror-inspir- 
ing region.  At  the  gate  stood  an  angel  of  sinister  and  terrify- 
ing mien.  Who  is  that  angel?  I  asked  Gabriel.  His  name  is 
Mâlik,  he  replied.  He  is  the  prince  of  hell  whose  entrance 
he  guards.  Since  his  creation,  he  has  never  smiled,  nor  has 
he  exchanged  with  anyone  whomsoever  the  slightest  colloquy. 
I  saluted  him,  but  he  did  not  return  the  salutation. 

It  is  Mahomet,  said  Gabriel.  Immediately  Mâlik  offered 
me  apologies,  saying:  Rejoice,  O  Mahomet,  on  account  of  the 
gifts  of  the  Lord,  who  hath  desired  thee  to  behold  the  works 
of  his  omnipotence,  and  who  hath  generously  loaded  thee  with 
so  many  benefits. 

0  Mâlik,  said  I,  breathe  once  upon  the  fires  of  hell.  Mâlik 
blew  once,  and  Gabriel  and  I  stood  stricken  with  terror. 

1  saw  in  the  middle  of  hell  a  tree  which  shaded  a  space 
500-y ears'  journey  in  dimension.  Its  thorns  were  like  lances, 
and  its  excrescences  resembled  the  heads  of  dio  (demons). 
Gabriel  said  to  me :  This  tree  is  the  zakkoum,  whose  fruit  is 
more  bitter  than  poison.  The  dwellers  in  hell  taste  it  only  to 
reject  it  at  once. 

At  the  foot  of  this  tree  I  saw  a  band  of  reprobates  whom 
the  angels  were  torturing  by  cutting  ofif  their  tongues,  which 
were  always  renewed  and  cut  off  anew.  Who  are  these 
wretches?  I  inquired  of  Gabriel.     They  are,  he  replied,  those 


2i6  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

leaders  who  have  not  ceased  to  say  to  others :  Drink  no  wine, 
commit  no  impure  actions,  and  beware  of  wicked  and  perverse 
deeds,  while  they  themselves,  not  practising  their  own  pre- 
cepts, commit  all  kinds  of  reprehensible  acts. 

I  also  saw  another  company  of  persons  whose  flesh  the 
angels  were  cutting  ofî  and  forcing  them  to  eat. 

And  who  are  they?  I  asked.  They  are  those,  answered 
Gabriel,  who  mocked  Mussulmen  to  their  faces,  and  said  evil  of 
them  in  their  absence,  without  fearing  the  day  of  the  resur- 
rection. 

Again  I  saw  a  group  of  men  whose  abnormally  enlarged 
stomachs  prevented  them  from  moving  an  inch.  Who  are 
they?  I  asked.  They  are  the  greedy,  who  were  insatiable  in 
their  thirst  for  gain.  Some  more  I  saw  whom  the  angels  were 
tormenting  by  pricking  them  with  lances.  Who  are  those 
yonder?  I  inquired.  Those,  he  answered,  who,  denouncing 
Mussulmen  to  their  oppressors,  used  violence  to  take  posses- 
sion of  their  goods ;  and  not  content  with  that,  by  practising 
slander  among  Mussulmen,  breed  rivalries,  wrangling,  and  dis- 
cord. Farther  on  was  a  band  of  men  suspended  by  chains  in 
the  midst  of  the  flames  of  hell.  And  who  are  they  ?  They  are 
those,  said  Gabriel,  who  prayed  hypocritically  when  they  were 
on  earth  that  they  might  be  honored  as  pious  and  virtuous  per- 
sons. They  had  no  other  aim  but  temporal  advantages,  and 
thought  not  of  the  rewards  of  the  future  life  nor  did  they  re- 
flect upon  the  day  of  the  last  judgment. 

I  saw  also  a  number  of  women  suspended  by  their  hair  in 
hell.  From  their  nostrils  whirlwinds  of  flame  gushed  forth. 
Who  are  those  women  ?  I  asked.  They  are  the  immodest  ones, 
said  Gabriel,  who  allowed  their  hair  to  be  seen  by  strangers, 
who,  enticed  by  this  sight,  coveted  these  women.  And  thereby 
sprang  up  between  them  criminal  relations,  for  they  had  lost 
all  fear  of  the  last  judgment. 

Beyond  were  some  women  whose  feet  and  hands  were 
bound.  Serpents  and  scorpions  swarmed  over  them,  stinging 
and  biting  them.  Who  are  these  women  ?  I  asked.  They  lived 
in  impurity,  Gabriel  answered,  without  ever  praying,  or  per- 
forming ablutions,  nor  do  they  request  anyone  to  teach  them 
the  laws  of  ablutions.  Neither  have  they  ever  learned  in  what 
prayer  consists.     Again  I   saw   some  women  hung  by  their 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  217 

tongues  in  the  midst  of  hell-fire.  And  who  are  these?  They 
left  their  husbands  no  repose  by  their  unceasing  scolding  and 
bickerings.  They  went  out  from  their  homes  without  permis- 
sion and  committed  shameful  actions. 

[The  Prophet  (may  salvation  attend  him!)  said  that  para- 
dise would  be  the  reward  of  the  women  who  obey  the  com- 
mandments of  the  Lord  of  All,  and  who  trouble  not  their  hus- 
bands with  scolding  and  quarreling.] 

At  some  distance,  I  beheld  a  group  of  people  whom  the 
angels  were  tormenting  by  pouring  poison  down  their  throats. 
What  have  these  people  done?  said  I.  They  consumed  the 
goods  of  orphans  without  thought  of  the  day  of  the  last  judg- 
ment. 

Next  I  saw  a  multitude  of  women  suspended  by  their 
breasts,  who  were  being  tormented  without  mercy  or  respite. 
I  sought  to  learn  who  these  women  were.  They  brought  into 
the  world,  said  Gabriel,  the  fruit  of  their  criminal  deeds ;  then, 
by  pretending  that  they  were  legitimate,  these  mothers  gave  to 
them  the  inheritance  of  others,  and  bestowed  on  them  wealth 
which  was  not  lawfully  theirs. 

Farther  on,  I  perceived  some  with  grindstones  hung 
around  their  necks.  They  were  bound  hand  and  foot,  and 
angels  tortured  them  unrelentingly.  Who  are  these?  I  in- 
quired of  Gabriel.  They  paid  not  the  tithes  of  their  wealth. 
Full  of  indulgence  for  their  desires,  they  thought  not  of  this 
great  day,  and  through  the  avarice  which  filled  their  souls,  they 
could  not  resolve  to  purify  their  wealth  by  alms. 

Again  I  beheld  a  band  of  wretches,  with  blackened  faces, 
their  necks  and  hands  loaded  with  chains,  and  who  were  under- 
going frightful  tortures.  I  asked  their  crime.  They  always 
greeted  the  great  with  flattering  compliments,  answered  Ga- 
briel. 

At  some  distance  was  a  group  of  men  whose  tongues  pro- 
truded from  their  mouths.  Their  heads  were  as  those  of 
swine,  and  they  had  legs  and  tails  similar  to  those  of  asses. 
They  are,  said  Gabriel,  those  who  bore  false  witness,  as  they 
possessed  not  the  fear  of  the  Most  High. 

Some  also  I  saw  who  were  slain  and  brought  to  life  alter- 
nately, while  they  were  asked,  What  good  hast  thou  ever  done  ? 

Some,  too,  were  enchained  by  their  necks.     Angels  poured 


2i8  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

poison  in  their  throats  and  cruelly  chastised  them.  Who  are 
those  unfortunates  ?  I  asked.  Those  who  drank  wine,  answered 
Gabriel,  and  died  unrepentant. 

I  also  saw  at  the  gate  of  hell  a  certain  number  of  chests, 
filled  with  serpents  and  scorpions  writhing  out  only  to  return. 
Gabriel,  questioned  by  me,  replied:  These  are  the  haughty, 
with  hearts  full  of  pride  and  harsh  in  their  deeds,  whom  these 
serpents  and  scorpions  will  torment  until  the  day  of  the  resur- 
rection, and  who  will  suffer  eternally. 

The  Prophet  (upon  whom  be  blessings  forever!)  says: 
O  ye  who  follow  my  way,  weep  without  ceasing  through 
fear  of  hell,  and  do  ye  those  deeds  which  shall  earn  for  thee 
happiness  in  the  next  world ;  for  terrible  are  the  agonies  of 
hell !  Its  depth  is  equal  to  the  distance  between  heaven  and 
earth.  When  the  Lord  God  created  hell,  he  ordered  the  angels 
to  keep  it  burning  for  a  thousand  years  in  succession,  when  it 
became  red.  When  they  had  kept  it  burning  for  another  thou- 
sand years,  it  became  white.  Still  another  thousand  years  it 
was  kept  burning,  and  it  became  black.  As  for  the  infidels 
who  enter  hell,  their  skin  is  of  the  thickness  of  forty  cubits ; 
their  teeth  are  as  large  as  Mount  Ohod.  Everyone  occupies 
a  space  equal  to  the  distance  which  separates  Mecca  from 
Medina.  The  reprobates,  in  the  very  heart  of  hell,  weep  so  that 
their  countenances  have  furrows  like  canals,  and  when  their 
tears  are  exhausted,  blood  commences  to  flow  from  their  eyes. 

When  I  returned,  after  having  successfully  visited  para- 
dise and  hell,  I  received  from  the  Lord  God  the  following  com- 
mandment :  O  Mahomet,  now  that  thou  hast  seen  the  marvels 
of  my  omnipotence,  go,  tell  them  to  those  who  follow  in  thy 
footsteps.  Promise  paradise  to  the  faithful,  and  seek  to  warn 
the  infidels,  the  hypocrites,  and  the  vicious  by  inspiring  them 
with  the  fear  of  the  tortures  of  hell.  As  for  thee,  do  thou  per- 
severe with  patience  in  the  holy  practices  of  the  true  religion ; 
be  thou  mild  in  thy  speech  and  kind  in  thy  deeds.  Invoke 
my  name  before  all  thy  actions,  for  I  am  nearer  unto  thee  than 
is  thy  soul  itself.  Even  if  the  infidels  invoke  my  name,  I  will 
not  leave  them  without  hope.  O  Mahomet,  let  not  thy  heart 
be  puffed  up  with  pride,  for  I  love  not  those  who  are  intoxi- 
cated with  vanity. 

After  the  Lord  God  had  spoken  to  me,  Gabriel  made  me 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  219 

mount  on  his  wings,  and  so  brought  nic  to  the  mount  of  Kâf. 
I  saw  that  this  mountain,  which  is  entirely  of  emerald,  com- 
pletely surrounds  the  earth.  Gabriel,  by  the  command  of  God, 
showed  me  two  cities  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Kâf,  one  situ- 
ated to  the  eastward,  and  the  other  to  the  west.  One  was  called 
Djabalaça  and  the  other  Djabalaka.  Each  of  them  had  a  thou- 
sand gates ;  and  from  one  gate  to  the  next  there  was  a  distance 
of  an  igadj.  All  the  houses  were  exactly  the  same  size.  While 
the  mosques  were  situated  far  from  the  dwellings,  the  ceme- 
teries were  at  their  very  doors.  Who  are  these  people  ?  I  asked. 
Followers  of  the  religion  of  Moses,  answered  Gabriel,  and  said 
unto  them,  Here  is  Mahomet,  whereupon  they  all  cried  out, 
Praise  to  the  most  high  Lord  of  all,  who  hath  granted  us  a 
sight  of  thy  blessed  countenance !  And  they  all  without  an 
exception  embraced  my  faith  at  once.  Then  I  inquired  why  all 
their  houses  were  the  same  size.  It  is  because,  answered  they, 
there  is  no  jealousy  or  envy  among  us,  and  therefore  no  desire 
to  excel  each  other.  But  what  is  the  reason,  I  again  asked,  of 
the  distance  of  the  mosques  from  your  residences,  while  the 
cemeteries  are  within  a  stone's  throw?  If  we  have  built  our 
mosques  at  some  distance,  said  they,  it  is  to  remind  us  that 
heaven  will  be  our  future  reward,  whereas  we  have  our  ceme- 
teries near  by  that  we  may  be  unceasingly  reminded  of  death. 
Then  they  added,  O  Mahomet,  we  pray,  we  observe  the  fasts, 
we  practise  charity  toward  each  other,  we  entertain  no  wicked 
sentiments  in  our  hearts,  we  conceive  no  projects  of  hate  nor 
of  revenge,  nor  do  we  encourage  spite ;  honoring  our  fathers 
and  mothers,  we  avoid  all  that  will  give  them  pain ;  we  beware 
of  all  wicked  deeds.  Now  give  us  advice,  and  enlighten  us 
with  thy  precepts.  I  answered  thus:  Live  always  in  the 
fear  of  almighty  God,  suffer  not  your  hearts  to  be  puffed  up 
with  pride,  and  humbly  submit  yourselves  to  the  yoke  of 
the  law. 

All  having  unreservedly  resolved  to  put  my  words  into 
practice,  I  arose  and  we  went  to  visit  them  all  individually, 
and  they  swore  allegiance  to  the  true  faith. 

May  the  Lord  of  all  accord  them  the  grace  of  good  works, 
and  the  scrupulous  practice  of  the  true  religion ;  may  he  de- 
liver them  from  the  torments  of  hell,  and  make  them  participate 
in  the  joys  of  paradise.    Amen  and  amen,  O  Ruler  of  all  worlds ! 


220  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

The  Marvels  of  the  Fourth  Heaven 

The  Prophet  (may  grace  and  blessings  be  upon  him!)  said 
also :  I  reached  the  fourth  heaven,  which  was  created  of 
pure  silver  and  which  is  called  Aziloun.  It  has  a  portal  of 
light  adorned  with  a  lock  of  light.  [According  to  another  de- 
scription, it  was  made  of  pearls.]  Compared  to  it,  the  seven 
strata  of  the  earth  are  as  a  ring  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  plain. 
On  the  fastening  of  the  gate  are  engraved  these  words : 
"  There  is  no  other  God  but  Allah ;  Mahomet  is  His  Chosen 
Prophet."  At  this  gate  was  stationed  an  angel  [named  Azrael 
according  to  one  story,  and  Moucâil  according  to  another]. 
After  we  had  knocked  on  the  gate  as  before  and  answered  the 
question  he  put  to  us,  he  opened  the  gate.  I  saw  there  innu- 
merable marvels,  eight  only  of  which  will  be  mentioned  in  this 
book: 

First.  Moucâil,  the  angel  who  is  stationed  at  the  gate,  exer- 
cises a  supervision  over  all  that  exists,  and  he  has  under  his 
command  400,000  angels.  His  teşbih  is  as  follows :  Glory 
be  to  the  Creator  of  darkness  and  light,  of  the  dazzling  sun, 
and  the  silver  moon!  Glory  be  unto  the  Lord  God,  the  Most 
High ! 

Second.  I  saw  there  my  brother  Moses,  blessings  be  upon 
him  forever!  [According  to  another  account,  this  interview 
took  place  in  the  sixth  heaven.]  Gabriel  having  bidden  me  by 
a  sign  to  do  so,  I  approached,  and  saluted  him.  He  arose, 
pressed  me  to  his  heart,  and  kissed  me  between  my  eyes,  saying, 
Glory  be  to  Allah,  who  hath  permitted  me  to  behold  thy  coun- 
tenance, and  hath  given  me  the  honor  of  seeing  thee.  Then 
he  gladdened  me  by  the  tidings  of  a  great  number  of  marvel- 
lous gifts  of  the  Lord,  and  said : 

This  night  thou  wilt  be  brought  even  unto  the  feet  of  the 
sovereign  Majesty,  to  that  sanctuary  where  no  creature  hath 
access.  Forget  not  when  thou  art  there  the  feeble  and  the 
faithful ;  ask  a  share  for  them  of  all  that  may  be  granted  to 
thee ;  endeavor  to  obtain  for  them  as  many  mitigations  of  the 
lawful  commandments  as  possible.  I  hearkened  unto  him, 
and  overheard  him  as  he  recited  this  fesbih :  Glory  be  to  him 
who  guides  whom  he  wills  in  the  right  way,  and  leads  astray 
whom  he  wills !    Glory  be  to  the  All-Merciful,  the  All-Pitiful ! 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  221 

Third.  As  I  went  away,  Moses  began  to  weep.  When  I 
asked  him  the  cause  of  his  tears,  It  is  because,  he  said,  there 
has  been  sent  after  me  a  young  apostle  whose  followers  will 
enter  paradise  in  greater  numbers  than  mine. 

[According  to  another  account,  he  thus  explained  the  motive 
of  his  tears :  The  children  of  Israel  regarded  me  as  the  most 
honored  of  all  the  sons  of  Adam  by  the  most  high  God,  and 
now  is  this  young  man  more  honored  than  I,  and  the  favor 
of  which  he  is  the  object  will  be  necessarily  shared  by  his  fol- 
lowers. He  will  be  the  first  of  the  prophets  in  the  eyes  of  God, 
and  his  followers  will  be  the  first  of  all  nations.] 

The  Lord  God  having  summoned  the  angels,  all  ap- 
proached on  their  knees  and  began  to  recite  this  teşbih :  Glory 
be  to  the  All-Merciful  and  All-Pitiful !  Glory  unto  him  from 
whom  nothing  is  hidden !  Glory  unto  the  supreme  Master  of 
all  worlds ! 

Is  it  thus  that  they  worship?  I  asked  of  Gabriel. 

Yes,  he  answered,  and  pray  to  God  that  thy  followers  may 
be  granted  the  grace  to  do  likewise.  I  asked,  and  the  Lord 
God,  hearkening  unto  my  prayer,  commanded  this  posture  in 
the  namaz  (orison). 

Fourth.  I  beheld  in  this  heaven  Meriem-Khatoun,  the 
mother  of  Moses,  and  Acieh,  the  wife  of  Fer'oun.  All  three 
came  toward  me.  Meriem  had  for  her  use  70,000  keiichk,  all 
of  emerald.  The  mother  of  Moses  had  70,000  keuchk  of  white 
pearls,  and  Acieh  had  70,000  of  red  hyacinth  and  70,000  of  red 
coral. 

Fifth.  An  angel  was  seated  on  a  throne,  with  moody  air 
and  contracted  brows.  At  each  of  the  four  corners  of  this 
throne  were  700,000  steps  of  gold  and  of  silver.  All  around 
there  was  such  a  multitude  of  angels  that  God  alone  could 
know  their  number. 

On  the  right  of  the  throne  I  saw  resplendent  angels,  all 
clothed  in  green,  breathing  exquisite  perfumes,  pronouncing 
words  which  charmed  the  ear,  and  whose  countenances  were 
of  such  dazzling  beauty  that  the  eye  could  not  gaze  upon  them. 
On  the  left  I  saw  the  angels  of  darkness,  with  faces  and  gar- 
ments of  black,  of  discordant  speech,  and  exhaling  a  pestilen- 
tial odor.  As  they  uttered  the  tcshih  flames  leaped  out  from 
their  mouths.     Before  them  were  spears,  maces,  and  piles  of 


222  THE   ASCENSION    OF   MAHOMET 

fire-arms  whose  aspect  could  not  be  borne.  The  angel  who 
was  seated  on  the  throne  was  covered  from  head  to  foot  with 
eyes  as  brilliant  as  Venus  and  Mars.  He  had  as  great  a  num- 
ber of  wings.  He  held  in  his  hand  a  leaflet,  and  before  him 
was  a  small  board  on  which  he  fastened  his  eyes  and  never 
raised  them.  There  was  also  before  him  a  tree  whose  leaves 
God  alone  could  number,  and  on  each  leaf  was  written  the 
name  of  a  mortal.  The  angel  had  also  a  sort  of  basin  at  his 
disposal.  Sometimes  he  plunged  his  right  hand  therein  and 
drew  out  an  object  which  he  handed  to  the  luminous  angels 
on  his  right,  sometimes  he  seized  the  object  with  his  left  hand 
and  delivered  it  to  the  angels  of  darkness. 

At  the  sight  of  this  angel,  my  heart  was  filled  with  awe,  a 
trembling  seized  my  whole  body,  and  I  felt  my  strength  aban- 
doning me.  I  questioned  Gabriel,  who  said :  It  is  Azrael, 
whose  face  no  one  can  behold ;  he  who  destroys  joys  and  who 
sunders  all  ties.  Then,  addressing  him  directly,  Gabriel  said. 
Behold,  O  Azrael,  the  Prophet  of  recent  times,  Mahomet,  the 
friend  of  the  All-Merciful.  Azrael  raised  his  head,  smiled, 
and  arose  to  do  me  honor. 

Be  thou  welcome,  he  said.  The  Most  High  hath  created 
none  more  worthy  of  reverence  than  thou ;  thy  people  are  also 
the  most  favored  of  all  in  his  sight.  As  for  me,  I  feel  more 
compassion  for  thine,  than  for  their  fathers  and  mothers. 
Thou  hast  rejoiced  my  heart,  I  answered,  and  thou  hast  freed 
my  soul  from  its  anguish.  Nevertheless,  there  remains  one 
care.     Why  do  I  see  thee  so  full  of  sadness  and  grief  ? 

Apostle  of  God,  he  replied,  since  almighty  God  appointed 
me  to  this  ministry  I  fear  that  I  shall  not  worthily  fill  the 
office  and  that  I  shall  be  unable  to  render  account  for  it.  And 
what,  then,  is  that  bowl  ?  I  asked.  It  is  the  entire  lower  world 
from  Mount  Kâf  to  Mount  Kâf ;  it  occupies  no  more  space 
than  that  in  my  eyes,  and  I  wield  there  a  supreme  power.  And 
that  small  board?  It  is  that  which  marks  the  appointed  hour 
of  every  creature.  And  this  leaflet?  It  is  the  record  of  all 
that  happens.  And  that  tree?  On  its  leaves  are  inscribed  the 
names  of  all  creatures,  happy  or  unhappy,  with  their  felicity 
or  their  misery.  If  anyone  be  sick,  his  leaf  becomes  yellow. 
When  the  moment  of  his  death  comes,  this  same  leaf  falls  on 
the  tablet,  where  his  name  is  blotted  out.    Then  I  stretch  forth 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  223 

my  hand  and  seize  his  soul  whether  it  be  in  the  east  or  the 
west.  If  it  be  the  soul  of  one  blessed,  I  give  it  to  the  angels 
on  my  right,  who  are  the  angels  of  divine  mercy.  If  it  be 
the  soul  of  a  reprobate,  I  consign  it  to  those  on  my  left,  who 
are  the  angels  of  damnation. 

And  what  is  the  number  of  all  these  angels  ? 

I  know  not ;  only  every  time  I  receive  the  soul  of  one  dying 
there  are  present  600,000  angels  of  mercy  and  600,000  angels 
of  damnation,  who  observe  to  which  category  the  soul  belongs, 
and  those  who  have  assisted  once  at  this  function  will  never 
return  to  witness  it  again  until  the  day  of  the  resurrection. 

Angel  of  Death,  I  said,  is  it  indeed  thou  who  dost  seize  the 
souls  of  all  dying? 

Since  I  was  created  I  have  never  moved  from  this  place 
where  thou  dost  see  me  now,  but  I  have  in  my  service  70,000 
angels,  each  of  whom  has  likewise  under  his  orders  70,000 
angels.  When  I  desire  to  seize  a  soul,  they  go  to  conduct  the 
soul  of  the  dying  one  into  his  throat,  whence  I  receive  it, 
stretching  forth  my  hand  from  this  throne. 

I  entreat  thee,  said  the  Prophet,  to  consider  the  weakness 
of  my  followers  and  to  take  them  only  with  gentleness  and 
care. 

I  call  Allah  to  witness,  said  Azrael,  he  who  hath  created 
thee  the  seal  of  prophets  and  his  chief  friend,  that  the  Creator 
(everlasting  glory  to  him!)  in  person  urges  me  70,000  times 
night  and  day  to  take  the  souls  of  the  followers  of  Mahomet 
gently,  and  to  let  all  my  dealings  with  them  be  as  considerate 
as  possible.  Assuredly  I  have  more  affection  for  them  than 
their  own  mothers. 

Sixth.  I  also  saw  there  a  sea  whose  waters  were  whiter 
than  snow.  Gabriel,  questioned  by  me,  told  me  that  it  was 
called  the  Sea  of  Snow,  and  if  a  drop  of  its  waters  escape  the 
heavens  and  earth  would  perish  with  cold. 

Seventh.  I  saw  the  blooming  temple  be'iti  ma'mour.  [Ac- 
cording to  others,  the  heiti  el  ma'mour  was  situated  on  the 
sidrct-el-mounteha  above  the  seventh  heaven.  However  this 
may  be,  this  is  the  description  of  it  given  by  the  Prophet.] 
It  is  a  m.ansion  of  red  hyacinth  with  two  portals  of  green  emer- 
ald. Ten  thousand  lustres  of  red  gold  hung  from  the  ceiling, 
adorned  with  hyacinths  and  gems  every  one  of  which  shed 


224  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

forth  more  light  than  the  sun.  At  the  door  of  this  temple  was 
placed  a  pulpit  of  gold  and  a  minaret  of  white  silver,  whose 
height  was  that  of  a  500-years'  journey.  Since  the  temple 
was  created,  and  so  it  will  be  until  the  day  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, every  day  70,000  angels  coming  under  the  arch  bathe  in 
a  sea  of  light ;  they  make  the  circuit  like  pilgrims  clad  with 
the  ihram,  repeating  Lebbe'ik,  lebbeik  (We  are  here,  we  are 
here)  ;  and  once  they  have  performed  this  duty  their  turn 
will  never  come  again  until  the  day  of  the  resurrection. 

Then  Gabriel,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  led  me  to  the  blos- 
soming temple  and  said  to  me.  Apostle  of  God,  perform  here 
the  functions  of  imam,  and  let  the  angels  take  thee  for  a 
model.  I  said  a  prayer  of  two  rik'at,  and  I  served  as  model 
for  the  angels  who  people  the  seven  heights  of  the  heaven. 
At  the  sight  of  this  multitude  surrounding  me  there  came  to 
my  mind  that  my  followers  might  unite  in  the  same  manner. 
He  who  penetrates  all  secrets  and  hidden  things  made  a  com- 
mandment of  the  desire  nestling  in  my  heart:  O  Mahomet, 
there  should  be  among  thy  followers  a  meeting  of  this  kind 
and  which  will  be  a  day  of  reunion,  yeomi  djum'a. 

[In  certain  commentaries  it  is  said  that  on  the  day  of  reunion 
the  angels  who  people  the  heavens  meet  at  the  blossoming  temple. 
Gabriel  recites  the  ezan  upon  the  minaret,  Esrâfil  pronounces 
the  khotbeh  in  the  pulpit;  Mika'il  fills  the  office  of  imam,  and 
the  angels  of  the  seven  heavens  follow  his  directions. 

When  the  prayer  of  the  day  of  reunion  is  finished,  Gabriel 
says :  O  ye  angels,  bear  witness  that  I  yield  the  recompense 
for  my  esan  to  the  muessin  of  the  followers  of  Mahomet. 
Esrâfil,  in  his  turn,  says  that  he  yields  to  their  khatib  the  re- 
ward of  the  khotbeh,  and  Mika'il  abandons  to  them  the  recom- 
pense for  the  imamat,  while  the  angels  do  as  much  for  all 
the  faithful  who  join  in  common  prayer.  Then  the  most  high 
God,  speaking  to  the  angels,  says :  Do  ye  think  to  show  me 
what  generosity  is,  I  who  am  the  Creator  of  generosity!  Be 
ye  witnesses  that  I  remit  all  the  sins  of  the  followers  of  Ma- 
homet, and  that  I  deliver  them  from  hell !] 

Eighth.  There,  it  is  said,  the  Prophet  saw  the  sun,  which, 
according  to  a  tradition,  is  160  times  the  size  of  the  terres- 
trial globe.  According  to  Ibn-Abbas,  its  breadth  is  that  of 
a   60,000-years'   journey.     When    God   created   the   sun,    he 


THE   ASCENSION    OF   MAHOMET 


225 


made  for  it  a  golden  barge,  on  which  he  placed  a  throne  of 
red  hyacinth,  with  360  steps,  on  each  one  of  which  were 
1,000  angels.  The  sun  was  placed  on  the  barge,  which  is 
placed  on  a  throne  by  360,000  angels.  Every  day  they  guide 
the  barge  on  the  sea  of  the  fourth  heaven  from  sunrise  to 
sunset ;  then  they  devote  themselves  to  the  adoration  of  the 
Most  High.  The  next  day,  360,000  other  angels  come  to  take 
the  places  of  those  who  did  this  service  the  day  before;  and 
so  will  it  be  until  the  day  of  the  resurrection  without  the 
recurrence  of  the  same  angels'  turn.  The  Lord  God  has  said : 
The  sun  goes  to  its  fixed  point. 

According  to  certain  commentaries,  the  fixed  point  of  the 
sun  is  beneath  the  arch,  to  the  foot  of  which  this  star  is  brought 
back  every  night,  and  where  it  is  prostrated  before  the  Most 
High  until  the  dawn.  At  that  moment,  obedient  to  the  divine 
command,  it  comes  forth  from  the  east,  and  so  it  will  be  until 
the  approach  of  resurrection  day.  It  will  then  receive  the 
command  to  rise  in  the  west.  This  tradition  is  preserved  in 
the  book  of  the  deceased  Imam  Talebi,  entitled  "  Arais  "  ("  The 
Betrothed"). 

Then,  said  the  Prophet,  I  reached  the  fifth  heaven. 

Without  pausing,  we  proceeded  forward.  As  soon  as  we 
had  reached  the  fourth  heaven,  Gabriel,  always  at  his  post, 
passing  before  me,  knocked  at  the  gate,  saying :  Open ! 
Who  is  there?  he  was  asked.  I,  Gabriel,  he  replied,  ac- 
companying Mahomet,  the  king  of  apostles.  Be  ye  welcome ! 
exclaimed  the  angels  who  guarded  the  gate,  and  who,  open- 
ing the  gate,  approached  us.  This  heaven  was  of  gold  en- 
tirely red.  Here  was  an  angel  named  Salsail.  He  advanced 
to  meet  us,  and  Gabriel  saluted  him,  whereupon  Salsail  said 
to  me  :  Receive  our  congratulations,  O  Mahomet !  Thou 
who  art  in  so  great  favor  with  the  Lord  God,  thou  who  art 
the  greatest  of  all  prophets !  It  is  for  thee  to  intercede  for 
thy  followers,  O  well-beloved  of  the  Lord,  for  thee  whose 
happy  star  has  made  thy  followers  the  most  fortunate  of  all ! 

I  saw  innumerable  choirs  of  angels  standing  to  receive  the 
commands  of  Salsail.  All  recited  unceasingly  the  teşbih,  nor 
did  they  grow  weary  night  or  day.  Here,  too,  I  saw  David, 
whom  I  saluted.  He  returned  the  salutation  and  said  to  me, 
Welcome.  O  apostle  of  truth,  venerable  brother,  august 
15 


226  THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET 

prophet !  With  David  I  also  saw  Solomon  in  this  heaven. 
As  soon  as  they  saw  me  they  came  to  meet  me,  and  exchanged 
salutations.  Here  I  saw  seated  on  a  throne  an  angel  whose 
luminous  brilliancy  filled  the  heaven.  ,  So  imposing  and  majes- 
tic was  his  appearance  that  none  can  look  upon  his  counte- 
nance. His  head  almost  touched  the  arch,  while  his  feet 
reached  down  below  the  earth.  The  entire  universe  was  for 
him  as  a  plain  where  each  particular  man  is  as  a  porringer. 

Before  him  also  was  a  large  tablet  on  which  he  constantly 
fixed  his  eyes.  Opposite  the  angel  was  a  gigantic  tree  whose 
boughs  were  covered  with  green  leaves,  and  two  awe-mspir- 
ing  spears  were  suspended  before  him ;  one  white,  and  the 
other  black.  Entirely  absorbed  in -his  ministry,  the  angel  paid 
attention  to  no  one,  and  his  harsh  and  frowning  features  gave 
him  an  altogether  terrible  and  forbidding  expression.  At  the 
sight  of  him,  my  soul  was  seized  with  awe,  my  heart  grew 
cold,  and  my  body  trembled.  Who,  then,  is  that  angel?  I 
asked  of  Gabriel.  At  what  task  is  busied  this  being  of  such 
imposing  mien?  Behold,  said  Gabriel,  him  who  slays  the 
sons  despite  their  fathers'  cries,  who  makes  children  orphans, 
and  causes  the  rich  to  weep  even  as  the  poor;  he  who  dis- 
solves all  unions,  and  turns  laughter  into  tears ;  Azrael  him- 
self, who  bears  away  all  souls,  and  leaves  lifeless  those  who 
were  replete  with  life. 

I  then  approached  him,  and  saluted  him,  but  so  occupied 
was  he,  that  he  did  not  glance  toward  me. 

Brother,  cried  Gabriel  to  him,  turn  to  this  side ;  doff  thy 
fierce  expression,  for  here  is  the  prophet  of  recent  times,  the 
friend  of  Allah,  and  the  prince  of  apostles.  He  raised  his 
head  and  saluted  me,  saying:  Pardon  me,  O  imam,  for  during 
the  long  time  that  I  have  been  busy  in  accomplishing  my  work, 
I  have  not  lifted  my  head  a  single  time.  Tell  me,  I  said,  what 
is  that  tablet,  what  is  that  tree,  and  what  are  those  spears  ? 

O  Mahomet !  he  answered,  this  tree  causes  the  death  of 
all  those  who  live  on  earth.  Every  one  of  them  has  his  leaf 
on  this  tree,  although  the  slime  of  which  they  were  moulded 
was  taken  from  the  earth.  Every  one  of  them  also  has  his 
name  written  on  the  leaf  which  is  assigned  to  him  as  well  as 
on  this  tablet.  In  whatever  part  of  the  world  he  is  when  his 
existence  reaches  the  fatal  hour,  his  leaf  dries  and  falls  at 


THE   ASCENSION   OF   MAHOMET  227 

once.  At  the  same  time  his  name  is  erased  from  this  tablet 
and  disappears,  even  as  he  himself  is  wiped  out  and  departed 
from  the  life  of  the  earth.  It  is  then  that  I  take  possession  of 
his  soul  so  inevitably  that  no  one  can  find  a  way  to  escape 
his  destiny.  As  for  myself,  I  never  have  one  minute  of  dis- 
traction and  let  nothing  escape  me,  and  never  do  I  hearken  unto 
the  entreaties  of  anyone.  If  it  be  the  soul  of  one  of  the  elect, 
I  seize  it  with  this  white  spear.  If  it  be,  on  the  contrary,  the 
soul  of  a  reprobate,  I  use  the  black  lance.  If  the  soul  be  that 
of  a  faithful  follower  of  thy  creed,  O  Mahomet !  I  assist  him 
to  ascend  to  heaven  in  light;  but  if  it  be  that  of  an  infidel,  I 
sufifer  it  to  fall  in  torment  down  to  hell  amid  encircHng  gloom. 

Having  again  resumed  our  journey,  we  soon  reached  a 
lofty  castle,  to  the  summit  of  which  the  eye  could  not  attain, 
and  the  surpassing  beauty  of  which  the  intelligence  was  pow- 
erless to  grasp  to  its  full  extent. 


■BmjTHJirnc 


N 


/g    n'%tr>ı^i  ' 


,y^-^"">;î^,:' 


CHOICE    EXAMPLES    OF   FRENCH    SCULPTURE. 


y 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  MUSIC. 

Photo-engraving  from  the  original  group  in  the  Grand  Opera  House  at  Paris. 

The  original  of  this  inspiring  group  can  be  seen  in  the  principal  facade  of  the 
Grand  Opera  House  at  Paris ;  and  the  artist,  Guillaume,  whom  some  critics  have 
deemed  rather  Philistinic  in  his  ideas,  while  investing  his  work  with  an  individuality 
entirely  his  own.  has  disarmed  his  critics  by  an  adherence  to  Attic  models  that 
exalts,  rather  than  detracts  from,  the  originality  of  his  work. 


I 


c    'c 


i 


THE    ROSE    AND    THE    NIGHTINGALE 
(Gül  and   Bülbül) 


BY 


MOHAMMED    FASLI 

[Metrical  Translation  by  J.  von  Hammer-Pur gstall  and 
Epiphaniiis  Wilson] 


i 


THE  ROSE 
AND  THE  NIGHTINGALE 


BLESSED  is  the  phrase  that  praises  Allah's  name ; 
It  is  the  very  rosary  of  God's  word ; 
For  through  it  blooms  the  rose-bed  of  the  soul ; 
And  through  it  sings  the  bosom's  nightingale. 
Each  single  letter  has  the  rose's  hue, 
And  thus  adorns  the  rose-field  of  our  faith. 
B  is  the  bloom  of  the  creation's  rise, 
The  rose  that  stands  on  plains  of  Paradise. 
S  is  the  sultan,  ruling  over  M ; 
The  dew-drop  sparkling  on  the  lip  of  buds. 
A  is  the  cypress  of  God's  kindliness, 
The  buds  of  sanback,  buds  of  promise  true. 
The  L  leads  on  to  leaves  of  happiness. 
Like  the  curled  locks  that  deck  the  grove  of  truth ; 
The  H  is  like  the  eyes  of  hyacinths ; 
Fresh  as  the  rosebud  when  it  starts  to  blow ; 
The  R  is  like  the  nation  of  the  rose. 
Hither  and  thither  tossed  by  morning  wind. 
The  H  is  the  mild  breeze  that  sweeps  the  plain. 
And  is  a  symbol  of  eternal  grace ; 
What  is  the  N  but  Eden's  Nenuphar 
The  dot  rests  on  it  like  a  pistil  point. 
The  J  is,  as  it  were,  a  jasmine  flower. 
Bending  above  a  violet  full  in  bloom. 
The  double  mark  that  stands  above  the  L 
Is  dew  upon  the  leaf  of  hyacinths. 
The  points  are  nothing  else  but  drops  of  dew. 
That  rest  on  tulip,  rose,  and  violets. 

231 


232  FASLI 

The  vowels  of  the  sentence  breathe  their  sounds 
Like  breezes  scenting  glades  of  Gülistan ; 
Emblems  of  peace  are  seen  on  every  side, 
Like  to  the  peace  of  Eden  in  the  world ; 
So  do  we  come  at  last  to  Gülistan, 
And  on  the  new-blown  roses  gaze  with  joy. 
And  you,  oh  Fasli !  to  the  rose-bed  come, 
And  sing  your  ardent  passion  for  the  rose. 


II 

The  Praise  of  God,  the  Wonders  of  God,  and  His  Mar- 
vellous Works 

Thou  didst  with  fire  make  red  the  rose's  heart, 
And  kindle  passion  in  the  nightingale ; 
Thou  didst  lend  sweetness  to  the  open  air. 
And  scatter  in  the  East  the  scent  of  musk ; 
To  thee  the  spring-time  owes  her  living  crown; 
The  groves  of  roses  owe  their  fame  to  thee. 
'Tis  thou  didst  paint  the  rose's  gallery ; 
And  China's  flowery  land  had  birth  from  thee. 
The  festival  of  roses  is  from  thee; 
The  rose  guests  owe  their  genial  hours  to  thee ; 
Thine  is  the  burning  aloe  of  the  East ; 
Thine,  the  loud  warbling  of  the  nightingale  ; 
From  thee,  the  rose  her  glowing  color  takes ; 
From  thee,  the  nightingale  her  melody ; 
The  tulip's  bosom  glows  with  love  for  thee; 
Delight  in  thee  perfumes  the  cypress  boughs ; 
Great  nature's  heart  is  opened  at  thy  smile ; 
And  by  thy  grace  the  vernal  waters  flow. 
Thy  wrath  bows  down  the  violet  to  the  dust. 
'Tis  at  thine  indignation  that  it  wilts. 
Thou  lightest  tapers  in  the  forest  glade. 
And  sometimes  in  thy  flames  the  tulip  dies ; 
And  the  narcissus,  like  a  beggar  crouched, 
Thou  dost  ennoble  with  thy  crowns  of  gold ; 
Yet,  'tis  their  voices  and  their  tongues  that  praise 
With  melody,  thy  name  in  woodland  glades. 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  233 

Yea,  from  the  very  seeds  thy  praises  rise; 

And  the  spring's  tender  nursHngs  speak  thy  name. 

The  Hving  and  the  dead  recount  thy  praise, 

The  fount,  from  which  the  hght  of  hving  streams ; 

No  man  can  worthily  extol  thy  name. 

Sing  then  thyself,  the  glory  that  is  thine ; 

Who  art  the  only  power  that  at  a  word 

Didst  call  into  existence  heaven  and  earth. 

The  breezes  of  the  west  did  softly  blow 

Where  solid  land  and  ocean  were  to  be. 

And,  as  thy  simple  fiat  sounded  forth, 

The  earth  was  fashioned  and  the  world  was  framed. 

'Tis  thou  that  gavest  her  station  to  the  earth. 

Thou  madest  hidden  treasures  in  the  hills. 

Thou  sendest  down  thy  rain-drops  on  the  dust ; 

Refreshing  all  the  leafage  of  the  plants. 

Thou  didst  unite  the  earthly  elements 

And  raise  the  arches  of  the  firmament. 

And  yoke  the  four  refractory  winds  of  heaven ; 

The  great  world-dragon  is  thy  talisman. 

The  stream  of  life  to  all  things  didst  thou  yield ; 

To  snake  and  ant  alike  thou  givest  meat ; 

And  the  earth's  treasures  by  thy  grace  are  known, 

And  by  thy  grace  are  all  things  possible. 

Upon  the  page  of  night,  with  master  hand, 

The  shining  precepts  of  thy  law  are  writ. 

And  gloriously  emblazoned  by  the  signs 

And  letters  of  the  azure  firmament. 

For  wisdom  of  Bismillah  is  the  B, 

As  Allah  is  great  nature's  origin. 

Next  comes  the  spirit  of  the  universe; 

Our  Scripture  is  the  mother  of  all  books, 

And  on  its  page  is  written  plain  to  see, 

"  He  in  the  heavens  has  made  himself  a  throne." 

And  under  it  the  scribe  Almighty  wrote 

The  verses  that  depict  the  holiest  throne. 

Next  the  seven  heavens  in  order  he  described ; 

In  the  first  chapter  of  Alcoran's  scroll. 

The  sea  and  land  are  separated  there, 

And  holy  Scripture  was  the  volume  named. 


234 


FASLI 

Then  did  he  write  those  jewels  of  the  world, 
The  Proofs,  the  Ordinances,  and  the  Laws. 
In  the  last  chapter  did  he  treat  of  man, 
And  so  the  sacred  record  was  complete. 


Ill 

An  Address  to  God's  Munificence,  Holiness  and 

Purity 

Thou  art  the  Maker,  both  of  man  and  beast. 
Body  and  life,  thou  gavest  unto  both. 
Yet  gavest  man  the  attributes  distinct 
Of  beauty,  and  of  intellectual  light. 
Thou  madest  the  face  of  man  to  be  a  glass, 
To  mirror  all  thy  beauty's  radiance ; 
And  as  thy  sun-like  beauty  shot  its  rays. 
So  beauty  in  the  beautiful  is  praised. 
In  beauteous  calm  thou  gleamest  over  all ; 
Where'er  I  gaze,  thy  splendor  I  behold ; 
And  not  a  landscape  owns  a  single  charm 
But  what  thy  shining  beauty  yields  to  it. 
Oh  thou  omnipotent,  a  pinch  of  dust 
Thou  turnest  to  the  splendor  of  the  world. 
And  a  friend's  face  becomes  a  face  of  fire. 
For  there  thy  well-loved  light  is  shining  out. 
Thou  to  the  fair  dost  give  the  radiant  cheek, 
To  those  in  love  the  light  step  of  the  dance. 
Thou  makest  wave  the  locks  of  Medschnuus, 
And  every  hair  becomes  a  snare  of  love. 
Yet  all  this  beauty  flows  again  to  thee; 
And  every  beauteous  look  reflects  thy  face ; 
And  in  the  eyes  of  lovers,  thou  dost  see 
Naught  but  thine  own  perfection  in  a  glass. 
Beloved  in  thine  own  beauty's  radiance. 
Art  thou  by  all,  as  thou  art  meet  to  be. 
And  wheresoe'er  thy  beauty  shall  be  seen, 
The  fame  of  thy  great  loveliness  is  loud. 
But  when  thy  glance  serenely  shines  on  men. 
It  makes  the  happiness  of  lovers  full. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE 


235 


For  thou  alone  on  earth  art  harmony; 

And  aught  beside  is  but  an  idle  dream. 

The  world's  life  is  illusive,  nothing  more 

Than  the  reflection  on  a  mirror's  face; 

Things  are  no  more  than  words  to  being  brought, 

And  names  the  sole  realities  of  life. 

The  sun  of  beauty  casts  its  light  abroad, 

And  all  it  touches  kindles  into  life. 

Thy  power  astounds  the  human  reason ;  makes 

The  mind  to  totter  and  the  brain  to  reel. 

No  human  wit. thine  essence  comprehends; 

Reason  and  intellect  before  it  fail. 

No  man  can  grasp  thy  nature,  nor  can  plumb 

With  intellectual  glance  thy  truth's  abyss. 

Men's  understanding  is  a  cradle-child; 

And  only  by  thyself  canst  thou  be  known. 

0  God,  I  was  conceived  and  born  to  sin. 
And  to  the  passion  that  degrades  my  soul ; 
Fast  held,  enamored  by  the  beautiful, 
Grief  was  my  portion  for  my  earliest  years ; 
In  empty  brains  did  sensual-  longing  burn. 
And  wine  bedrenched  nie  like  an  empty  skin. 
Eager  I  yielded  to  the  goblet's  charm, 

And  lingered  like  a  drunkard  over  cups ; 
Draught  after  draught,  I  took  the  ruddy  wine, 
And  threw  the  pleas  of  virtue  to  the  wind. 
And  all  of  life's  religion  I  renounced. 
And  turned  from  all  devotion's  practices ; 
Yet  what  would  profit  oft-repeated  prayer 
To  one  like  me  who  stand  aloof  from  God? 
If  to  the  mosque  I  sometimes  turn  my  way 
'Tis  only  to  behold  the  beauty  there. 

1  lift  mine  hands  in  prayer  toward  the  place 
Where  the  fair  women  of  the  assembly  sit. 
Oft  at  the  Portal  Beautiful  I  wait. 

To  mask  my  sins  by  such  religious  guise. 
Sad  is  the  plight  in  which  I  find  myself ; 
O  Lord,  forgive  the  evil  I  have  done. 
For  under  thy  control,  O  Lord  most  high. 
Are  works  of  good  and  works  of  evil  set. 


236  FASLI 

Were  it  obedient  for  a  thousand  years, 

The  world  could  never  see  thee  as  thou  art 

And  sins  committed  for  a  thousand  years 

Could  not  impair  one  jot  thy  worthiness. 

And  I,  who  can  do  nothing  of  myself, 

How  could  I,  Lord,  obedient  prove  to  thee? 

Yet  in  thy  unity  do  I  believe, 

And  with  a  heart  sincere  observe  thy  law. 

Show  me  the  pathway  of  the  unity, 

That  in  it  I  may  lead  myself  aright. 

Grant  that  mine  eyes  may  still  reflect  thy  face; 

My  heart  receive  the  light  thy  knowledge  yields. 

Leave  not  my  soul  in  darkness  absolute, 

But  cast  the  light  of  grace  upon  my  path. 

Drive  from  my  breast  the  instincts  that  degrade. 

And  fill  it  with  the  radiance  of  thy  love. 

Oh,  make  mine  eyes  reflect  thee  constantly ; 

My  tongue  forever  speak  of  thee  alone; 

My  heart  be  filled  with  love  of  thee,  and  lit 

With  all  the  splendor  of  thy  unity. 

Let  me  behold  thy  secret  state  unveiled, 

And  manifest  to  me  thyself  alone. 

For  why  should  human  glances  seek  the  light 

And  turn  toward  the  countenance  "of  God  ? 

Make  me  with  wine  of  love  inebriate. 

And  of  my  nothingness,  thy  creature  form. 

I  call  for  the  delirium  of  love ; 

And  naught  but  thee,  Jehovah,  do  I  seek. 

Therefore  the  name  of  God  is  on  my  lips ; 

And  still  I  cry,  "There  is  no  god  but  God." 

I  care  not  that  my  soul  perdition  see 

So  long  as  I  behold  the  great  Amen. 

Grant  only  that  my  soul  be  filled  with  truth, 

And  my  heart  led  along  the  path  of  light. 

Sincerity  my  rule  I  do  ordain. 

And  gratitude  the  watchword  of  my  life. 

Of  secret  falsehoods  shall  my  heart  beware; 

Of  pride  and  rancor's  desolating  flame. 

Oh,  change  my  being;  open  wide  to  me, 

Poor  as  I  am,  the  treasury  of  thy  grace, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  237 

And  quench  the  flame  of  anger  in  my  soul. 
Kill  in  me  avarice,  and  concupiscence ; 
Let  pleasure  never  dominate  my  life, 
Nor  chastity  be  wanting  in  my  heart. 
Inflame  me  not  with  wrath's  pernicious  fire, 
But  quench  it  in  the  steady  stream  of  thought. 
Send  me  not  forth  on  paths  of  cruelty 
And  give  thy  justice  to  direct  the  world. 
Make  truthfulness  my  guardian ;  and  let  me  see 
The  dear  Kaaba  stone  of  my  desire. 
Contentment  be  my  storehouse  as  I  haste 
Upon  my  journey  to  the  wished-for  land. 
And  when  the  vision  dawns  upon  my  sight, 
Grant  that  I  never  more  may  leave  thy  law. 
Grant  that  my  habits  ne'er  may  master  me, 
But  custom  ever  change  at  my  command. 
May  I  be  ne'er  abandoned  by  thy  grace, 
May  my  obedience  ever  perfect  be; 
And  bend  my  wishes  to  the  mood  of  prayer, 
That  they  may  burst  in  flowers  of  happiness. 
Cast,  when  I  kneel,  my  intellect  to  earth, 
That  thus  my  prayer  may  never  be  disturbed. 
When  I  am  set  on  honor's  lofty  seat, 
Give  me  the  strength  to  bear  prosperity. 
Keep  me  untainted  by  hypocrisy, 
And  in  thy  service  make  my  mind  sincere. 
Grant  daily  growth  to  my  obedience. 
May  it  be  nourished  on  the  Prophet's  lore, 
And  let  my  tongue  flow  ever  in  thy  praise. 


IV 

Hymn  of  Praise  to  the  Lord  of  Lords,  to  the  Glory 
OF  His  Creatures,  and  to  the  Prophets 

He,  the  first  cause  of  all  created  things ; 
The  bloom  of  planetary  elements ; 
In  all  the  treasures  of  his  mighty  heart, 
Is  the  great  light  that  lights  existences ; 
And  in  the  order  of  celestial  things 


238  FASLI 

He  is  the  circle's  first  and  utmost  line ; 

And  he,  the  all-respected,  all-beloved, 

Mahomet,  Mustapha,  and  Mahmoud  named. 

Sprung  from  the  house  of  Haschim,  Koreish'  stem, 

First  published  to  the  world  the  Monuments. 

From  out  God's  secret  treasure-house  he  came, 

Like  to  the  light  of  morning  in  the  East, 

To  be  on  earth  the  prophets'  guide,  to  be 

The  great  director  of  the  pure  in  heart. 

When  on  the  world  his  features  cease  to  shine, 

It  seems  as  if  the  sun  was  veiled  in  heaven ; 

And  when  his  grandeur  does  not  rear  itself, 

The  very  heavens  no  longer  soar  aloft. 

Without  the  shadow  of  his  mightiness. 

The  throne  itself  would  totter  in  decay. 

When  he  is  wroth,  he  in  confusion  throws 

The  water's  torrent  and  the  dust  of  earth; 

His  dazzling  existence  could  not  fail. 

But  both  the  worlds  of  heaven  and  earth  were  gone. 

The  world  and  all  therein  exist  for  him; 

Angels  and  men  and  demons  of  the  air ; 

And  the  nine  heavens  their  being  owe  to  him; 

For  him  the  heavens  their  revelations  make; 

He  is  the  world's  foundation,  cause,  and  end, 

And  he  preserves  the  beauty  of  the  world. 

His  law  remains  the  age's  guiding  light; 

And  in  his  countenance  does  Allah  shine. 

Mankind  in  guilt  and  dire  perplexity 

Had  wandered  blindly  from  the  way  of  truth. 

Until  the  loving-kindness  of  his  law 

Recovered  them,  and  brought  them  to  the  path. 

Before  the  splendor  of  his  law  arose. 

The  human  race  was  separate  from  God. 

Mahomet  showed  the  path  that  led  to  God ; 

He  was  the  polestar  in  the  arch  of  night ; 

The  leader  of  the  pilgrims  on  their  way ; 

The  refuge  of  the  rulers  of  the  world : 

For  when  Mahomet  on  the  earth  appeared. 

He  shone  the  candle  of  intelligence. 

Mahomet,  called  the  prophets'  prince  to  be. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  239 

Was  first  in  excellence  of  holiness. 

Mahomet  rules  the  future  of  the  world ; 

In  him  existence  is  not  bound  by  space ; 

Mahomet  is  the  source  of  light  to  all ; 

The  guide  and  guardian  of  the  universe. 

Adam  was  once  the  glory  of  the  world, 

But  he  is  Adam's  greater  counterpart. 

'Twas  he  that  rescued  Noah  from  the  flood ; 

And  so  preserved  the  good  of  all  the  earth. 

Enoch  ascended  into  paradise, 

But  he,  an  earthly  creature,  mounted  heaven. 

While  Abraham  was  eminent  for  love, 

Mahomet  only  keeps  the  throne  of  love. 

And  while  on  Sinai  does  Moses  stand, 

Mahomet  holds  the  highest  place  in  heaven. 

'Tis  true  that  Jesus  waked  the  dead  to  life; 

Life  to  the  dust  was  by  Mahomet  given. 

Though  Joseph  was  of  comely  countenance, 

Mahomet  is  the  Saviour  beautiful. 

God  to  King  Solomon  great  wisdom  gave. 

The  prophet's  wisdom  was  Mahomet's  dower. 

Though  David  was  God's  caliph  on  the  earth, 

Truth  in  Mahomet  is  epitomized. 

Endless  the  pomp  of  his  nobility. 

And  endless  is  his  honor  and  his  power. 

When  to  his  mighty  power  he  gave  free  course, 

He  ripped  the  curtain  of  the  moon  apart. 

And  see  what  mighty  miracles  he  wrought ; 

"  I  have  been  poisoned,"  said  the  lamb  to  him. 

Like  the  dim  cypress  that  in  summer  springs, 

He  cast  no  shadow  on  the  ground  he  trod ; 

But  light  invested  him  from  head  to  foot, 

And  people  saw  his  pathway  shadowless. 

Shadows  from  out  the  realm  of  darkness  come, 

And  never  shadow  yet  has  beamed  with  light. 

Yon  full-orbed  moon  casts  light,  not  shadow  down, 

Yet  on  the  cornfields  flings  the  shadowed  trees. 

So  like  a  shade-tent  did  the  people  cast 

Their  shadows  on  him  in  the  sunlight  clear. 

His  beauteous  eye,  the  window  of  his  soul, 


240  FASLI 

Was  raven  black  amid  the  dazzling  light. 

He  saw,  at  once,  in  all  directions,  all. 

Before,  behind  him,  near  him,  or  far  oflf. 

For  in  that  eye  was  light  as  sunbeam  clear, 

And  by  it  was  the  sun  itself  eclipsed. 

Vain  were  it  all  his  miracles  to  count, 

Though  I  should  labor  to  the  judgment  day; 

Though  I  should  speak  them  with  a  thousand  tongues, 

Ten  thousand  yet  unsung  I  should  omit. 

Only  his  passage  to  the  highest  heaven 

Can  yield  full  witness  of  his  excellence. 


V 

How  He,  the  Master  of  Both  Worlds,  on  the  Night  of 
His  Celestial  Journey  Rose  From  the  Bosom  of  the 
Earthly  Multitude  to  the  Summit  of  the  Divine 
Unity 

'TwAS  night,  and  yet,  as  in  the  light  of  day. 

The  earth  lay  bathed  in  splendor  brilliant. 

For  like  a  company  of  princes  ranged 

The  happy  stars  were  shining  overhead. 

And  the  full  moon  her  silver  radiance  poured ; 

'Twas  the  great  feast  time  of  the  Ramazan. 

On  such  a  night  the  moon  was  throned  in  heaven 

Above  the  thousand  star  specks  of  the  world ; 

A  queen  surrounded  by  nobility. 

His  house  was  flooded  by  the  moonlight  clear. 

And  from  the  moon,  now  fourteen  nights  in  orb, 

Came  Gabriel,  the  messenger  of  heaven. 

He  said :  "  Oh  thou  who  like  the  moon  on  earth, 

And  like  the  sun  in  purity  of  light 

Art  eminent,  and  lord  of  honors  here. 

Accept  the  thousand  greetings  that  I  bring, 

For  with  this  greeting  God  a  summons  sends. 

To  the  enjoyment  of  his  majesty. 

This  journey,  then,  with  longing  keen  begin. 

For  the  All-Wise  desires  thee  at  his  side. 

Forsake  the  crowd  to  meet  the  unity 


THE    ROSE    AND    THE    NIGHTINGALE  241 

And  taste  the  presence  of  all  purity. 
The  angels  all  are  ranked  below  thy  seat, 
Thou  art  the  princely  ruler  of  the  heavens." 
As  Ahmed  listened  to  the  messenger 
He  praised  the  Lord  of  heaven  with  fervent  prayer. 
Calmly  he  mounted  on  the  cherubim, 
And  rose  in  haste  toward  his  celestial  friends. 
He  moved  like  some  fresh  morning  wind  that  blows, 
Toward  the  sanctuary  of  Zion's  hill. 
Soon  he,  the  master  of  all  grace,  arrived ; 
And,  as  the  leader  of  the  spirits  pure. 
He  stood  in  heaven,  and  through  the  stars  he  passed, 
While  constellations  honored  his  approach. 
As  in  the  primal  heaven  he  sat  enthroned, 
The  moon  was  waxing  to  her  fullest  orb. 
With  deep  obeisance  did  the  queen  of  night 
Welcome  the  visit  of  the  prophet  form. 
Thence  to  the  second  heaven  he  bent  his  way; 
The  heaven  of  Mercury  blessed  him  as  he  came. 
There  on  heaven's  page  were  pointed  out  to  him 
The  dazzling  wonders  of  creation's  work. 
To  the  third  heaven  at  last  he  soared  aloft. 
And  Venus  welcomed  him  with  kindly  grace. 
Deep  bliss  his  ardent  breast  with  rapture  filled. 
As  lutes  of  love  their  dulcet  notes  resound. 
In  the  fourth  heaven  o'er  radiant  meads  he  trod, 
His  shadow  lent  a  lustre  to  the  sun. 
Peacefully  fell  that  shadow  on  the  star, 
Filling  with  light  the  spot  that  welcomed  it. 
At  the  fifth  heaven  he  glanced,  and  lo !  he  saw 
That  Mars  had  drawn  his  falchion,  full  of  fear. 
Yet  with  submissiveness  the  man  of  God 
He  welcomed,  greeting  with  obeisance  due. 
On  the  sixth  throne  elate  sat  Jupiter, 
Once  happy,  festive,  lord  of  heaven  and  earth. 
By  him  the  Prophet  was  received  with  smiles 
And  prospered  on  his  way  with  happiness. 
Saturn,  the  ruler  of  the  seventh  ring. 
Received  him  in  the  circle  of  his  light. 
"  I  come,"  the  Prophet  said,  "  from  dark  to  light  ; 
16 


242 


FASLI 

Repulse  me  not,  I  pray  thee,  from  thy  door." 

Thence  he  ascended  by  the  sunHt  path. 

To  that  clear  region  where  the  stars  are  fixed, 

And  in  the  radiance  of  his  approach. 

Great  joy  was  caused  through  all  the  region  high. 

And  as  his  gracious  shadow  there  was  cast. 

He  found  himself  upon  the  meadow  plain, 

Whose  carpet  spreads  before  the  throne  of  God. 

And  he  who  was  the  first  in  highest  heaven, 

Heard  in  that  radiant  place  a  voice,  that  cried, 

"  Oh,  tread  my  plains,  for  in  thy  steps  is  peace." 

O'er  the  whole  region  did  he  wend  his  way 

And  stood  at  last  before  the  Tree  of  Life. 

Before  the  Tree  of  Life  he  paused  a  while ; 

For  there  his  guide  had  bidden  him  to  repose. 

Thence  to  the  throne  of  his  dear  God  he  passed. 

The  God  unlimited  by  time  or  space. 

All  the  dark  memories  of  the  world  were  lost. 

For  there  the  light  of  the  one  God  beamed  forth. 

And  there  he  took  his  station  next  to  God, 

Higher  than  prophet  or  than  seraphim. 

His  inmost  soul  was  lost  in  ecstasy. 

For  God  within  that  circle  sole  exists ; 

God  infinite  and  absolute  is  there, 

In  the  full  splendor  of  his  attributes. 

There  is  the  light  of  life  divine  revealed. 

Clear  as  a  spotless  diamond  in  heaven. 

There  saw  he  what  no  eye  before  had  seen, 

And  heard  what  yet  had  reached  no  human  ear. 

For  speech  in  heaven  is  wordless,  and  the  heart 

Speaks  out  aloud,  yet  with  no  uttered  sound. 

From  thence  he  was  permitted  to  return 

To  the  waste  hill  land  of  his  native  home. 

He  traversed  heaven  and  blessed  it  with  his  face, 

Returning  on  his  way  to  earth  again. 

And  when  he  reached  his  couch,  he  found  that  all 

That  boundless  journey  through  the  infinite 

Had  happened  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

The  prophets  greeted  him  with  loud  acclaim, 

And  spread  the  joyous  news  of  his  return, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  243 

And  all  who  heard  it,  turned  their  minds  to  God. 
All  were  transported  with  celestial  joy. 
All  rendered  thanks  of  gratitude  to  Heaven. 
The  hearts  and  souls  of  all  were  filled  with  light, 
Plunged  at  the  moment  in  the  Sea  of  Truth. 


VI 

A  Blessing  on  the  Prophets,  the  Mediators  of  the 
People^  with  a  Prayer  of  Intercession  and  a  Greet- 
ing to  His  Companions 

All  hail  to  thee,  thou  messenger  of  God! 

My  heart  goes  out  to  thee,  and  ye,  who  stand 

As  mediators  in  the  path  of  truth, 

Weigh  well  the  good  and  evil  of  the  heart. 

Prophet,  my  spirit  is  with  rapture  filled. 

Be  gracious  to  me,  listen  to  my  cry, 

For  when  thou  pleadest  for  sinners  all  the  band 

Of  followers  pay  their  homage  at  thy  feet. 

For  in  the  bygone  days  there  was  revealed 

A  rule  of  right  and  wrong,  and  in  the  scale 

Of  justice  all  was  cast.     The  world  for  thee 

Has  hoped,  O  mediator,  all  the  world. 

Become  thou,  then,  a  mediator  for  me, 

And  make  me  with  the  peace  of  Eden  blest. 

Why  fear  I  when  my  guilt  is  infinite, 

If  infinite  the  grace  that  thou  canst  give? 

For  my  infirmities  are  without  bound. 

And  in  transgression  am  I  swallowed  up. 

My  sins,  my  sins  are  multitudinous 

And  I  have  failed  to  see  the  end  of  God. 

Now  at  thy  footstool  do  I  prostrate  lie, 

I  touch  thy  hands,  I  supplicate  thy  face. 

For  if  thy  kindness  will  not  intercede 

What  is  the  intercession  of  this  sigh? 

And  if  thy  tenderness  refuse  support 

My  soul  must  wander  in  the  maze  of  grief. 

And  yet  I  hope  thy  interceding  prayer 

Will  win  some  respite  to  my  tortured  soul ; 


244  FASLI 

And  I  call  myriad  blessings  on  thy  head 

And  upon  all  who  follow  in  thy  train, 

On  all  who  travel  on  the  path  of  good ; 

To  all  the  leaders  of  the  saintly  band ; 

On  those  the  four  elect  ones,  on  all  friends ; 

On  the  primordial  powers  of  either  world. 

Upon  the  sovereign  king  of  wisdom's  realm, 

On  Ebubeker,  who  is  lord  of  truth. 

Then  upon  him  who  is  the  one  just  lord, 

Omer,  the  noblest,  purest  among  men ; 

Next  upon  him,  the  Koran's  faithful  scribe, 

Upon  the  lordly  Osman,  Haffan's  son; 

On  Ali,  friend  of  me  and  friend  of  all; 

To  whom  all  realms  of  knowledge  were  revealed. 

Next  on  the  pair,  for  whom  my  vision  thirsts — 

On  Hassan  and  on  Huscin,  princes  both. 

Noblest  in  purpose  and  in  dignity ; 

On  Omar,  Hamsa,  Abbas,  whom  I  greet, 

With  myriad  salutations,  while  I  lay 

A  thousand  gratulations  at  their  feet. 


vn 

What  Was  the  Occasion  of  This  Poem  and  the 
Arrangement  of  the  Narrative 

Upon  a  morn,  a  glorious  morn  of  June, 

When  eastern  light,  with  many  colored  charm, 

Tinted  the  gentle  birth  throes  of  the  year ; 

And  streams  with  ardent  longing  ran  their  race, 

And  cloudless  azure  floated  o'er  the  world. 

The  rose  and  tulip  oped  their  petals  wide, 

Within  a  garden  fair  as  paradise, 

Where  sand  and  soil  were  clothed  in  dazzling  green. 

All  earth  was  blushing  in  the  morning  ray, 

As  if  a  second  Eden  had  arisen. 

The  tulips  ranged  along  the  mountain  walls. 

Held  up  their  chalices  with  eager  hands. 

And  all  the  flowers  were  waking  out  of  sleep, 

And  day  was  changing  watch  with  vanished  night. 


i 


THE    ROSE    AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE 

Narcissus  flowers  had  filled  their  golden  cups, 

Stanching  their  thirst  in  draughts  of  diamond  dew. 

Each  rose  within  the  garden  seemed  a  king, 

And  every  floweret  was  a  belted  knight. 

The  nightingales  were  sighing  in  the  grove. 

And  deep  delight  the  stream  and  forest  filled. 

The  cypresses  were  bending  in  their  dance, 

And  all  the  world  was  radiant  with  joy. 

Within  the  garden  stood  a  company 

Of  friends,  on  joy  and  recreation  bent; 

For  great  and  small,  either  by  night  or  day, 

In  pleasure  banquets  to  that  garden  came. 

But  I  within  the  wood  remained  aloof, 

And  wandered,  lost  in  solitary  thought. 

Then  came  to  me  a  man  of  a  refined 

And  gentle  aspect,  and  of  noble  race. 

For  many  a  year  this  friend  of  mine  had  laughed 

And  wept  with  me,  in  pleasure  or  in  pain. 

Then  said  he,  "  Friend  of  mine,  arouse  thyself." 

Nor  dally  here  in  listless  indolence, 

For  spring  has  tinted  bright  the  dewy  world. 

And  God's  enchantments  fill  the  garden  glade; 

On  the  world's  leaf  he  writes  the  message  clear : 

"  Oh,  come  and  see  God's  monument  on  earth ! 

Why  tarriest  thou?    Behold  this  circling  realm! 

How  beautiful  is  earth — 'tis  paradise. 

For  vernal  life  revives  the  blooming  year, 

And  if  thou  live  the  thought  must  raise  thy  heart." 

I,  as  I  heard  these  pleadings  of  my  friend. 

By  his  benignant  influence  was  swayed. 

Into  the  garden  as  he  led  the  way, 

I  entered ;  there  a  grove  of  roses  stood. 

We  crossed  a  level  area,  where  we  saw 

The  scene  adorned  with  flowering  elder-trees. 

The  place  was  noble,  for  the  hillside  shone 

With  the  fresh  loveliness  of  Eden's  bower. 

Such  scenes  unlock  the  heart  and  make  it  glad. 

And  over  all  they  spread  the  balm  of  peace. 

The  fresh  blown  roses  hung  on  every  side; 

From  every  copse  the  nightingales  were  heard. 


245 


246 


FASLI 

And  in  this  place  of  beauty  marvellous 

A  thousand  words  passed  swift  'twixt  friend  and  friend, 

And  kindly  greetings  rose,  and  hearts  were  soothed 

With  genial  conversation ;  poesy 

Lent  to  the  converse  of  the  band  her  charm, 

And  prose  and  verse  alternately  they  quote; 

Mesnevi's  tale  was  subject  of  debate; 

And  meaning  and  expression  were  discussed. 

Then  with  my  friend  I  held  a  colloquy ; 

And,  in  a  kindly  mood,  he  said  to  me ; 

"  The  nightingale  is  singing  loud  to-day, 

And  thou,  whose  heart  is  drinking  in  delight 

From  the  soul  utterance  of  the  nightingale, 

How  comes  it  thou  art  silent  in  the  world? 

Thy  breath  and  utterance  should  impart  new  life ; 

Thy  word  give  healing,  from  thy  mouth  should  come 

The  stream  that  yields  refreshment  unto  men. 

Why  art  thou  dumb  and  lifeless ;  without  song? 

Write  thou  a  volume  with  poetic  grace 

Replete,  and  show  the  compass  of  thy  power; 

God  gave  to  thee  the  poet's  destiny. 

Whence  is  thy  mood  of  careless  indolence? 

He  in  whom  mind  is  more  than  fleshly  might 

Alone  can  frame  a  song  that  moves  the  heart. 

Write,  then,  a  book  which  shall  transmit  thy  name 

Down  to  the  records  of  remotest  time. 

For  certainly,  the  name  of  him  whose  mind 

Dwells  on  the  beautiful  shall  never  die." 

Now  as  I  listened  to  this  kind  advice, 

A  keen  ambition  seized  upon  my  soul. 

I  answered :  "  Friend,  thy  counsel  I  approve ; 

Thy  words  have  made  me  opulent  in  soul ; 

I  lend  my  ear  to  all  that  thou  hast  said. 

For  he  who  would  gainsay  thee  is  a  fool. 

But,  though  with  ample  skill  and  wit  enough 

I  might  a  book  in  one  short  week  compose. 

The  world  would  scorn  imagination's  work. 

Although  my  power  of  utterance  be  supreme." 

Then  all  the  circle  to  my  plea  demurred, 

Laying  a  thousand  fetters  on  my  heart. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  247 

"  But,"  I  continued,  "  tis  for  daily  bread 

We  toil,  and  scarce  the  pen  can  meet  the  need ; 

When  with  my  brain  as  pilot  I  proceed, 

A  thousand  cares  for  corporal  wants  molest ; 

Entangled  thus,  invention  fails  my  mind. 

And  all  my  spirit's  best  emotions  die." 

"  Stay,"  said  my  friend,  "  this  argument  is  vain, 

Vain  are  these  timid  pretexts.     Courage  take. 

Is  not  the  nightingale  in  prison  bars 

Forever  wont  to  pour  her  dolorous  chant? 

And  in  its  cage  the  cheerful  popinjay 

Learns  to  repeat  the  words  of  human  folk, 

And  chatters  with  untiring  gaiety. 

And  warbles  in  a  rapture  of  delight." 

"  My  friend,"  I  answered,  "  in  these  times  of  ours' 

The  world  is  nothing  but  the  slave  of  gold ; 

Honor  and  oiBce  is  the  aim  of  all, 

While  merit  follows  like  a  slave  on  foot. 

How  sordid  is  the  spirit  of  the  world! 

True  fame  alone  from  generous  wisdom  springs. 

Where  can  we  find  the  scholar  exquisite? 

Alas !  the  world  is  full  of  ignorance ; 

Who  cares  to-day  for  books  of  verse  or  prose? 

Who  dares  to  tread  the  path  of  poetry? 

There  may  be  magic  in  the  song  you  sing, 

But  the  dull  world  is  dull  to  every  note." 

He  answered:  "  What  does  all  this  babbling  mean? 

No  man  of  purpose  can  this  plea  allow. 

Think'st  thou  the  world  as  empty  as  thou  say'st? 

Leave  off  repining,  and,  with  courage  bold, 

If  thou  hast  jewels,  bring  them  to  the  mart; 

The  buyer  is  not  difficult  to  find. 

If  thou  hast  merit  wherefore  this  delay  ? 

How  canst  thou  heedless  waste  the  fleeting  hour? 

Merit  will  always  win  the  praise  of  men. 

But  bring  thy  beauty  boldly  into  view. 

The  Shah  will  first  of  all  make  recompense ; 

He  knows  to  treasure  up  the  worth  of  words; 

A  critic  he,  in  poetry  and  prose. 

Expert,  munificent  as  well  as  wise. 


248  FASLI 

To  him  thy  poem  must  thou  dedicate, 

Thy  poem  rare  and  writ  in  double  rhyme. 

And  in  this  work  thy  name  along  with  his 

Shall  live  unto  the  very  judgment  day." 

Soon  as  the  Shah  was  named,  I  felt  in  vain 

Were  all  excuses,  and  I  answered  him: 

"  Friend  of  my  soul,  I  will  the  work  begin. 

I  swear  it  on  my  head,  this  very  day ! 

Yet  in  what  style  shall  it  accomplished  be? 

That  I  may  execute  a  splendid  work."  | 

He  said :  "  My  dearest  friend,  what  other  theme  * 

But  the  rose  legend  can  suffice  for  thee? 

The  legend  of  the  beauty  of  the  rose. 

The  legend  of  the  lover  nightingale. 

Tell  us  the  lot,  the  plight  of  bird  and  flower. 

And  all  they  did  and  were ;  set  this  to  rhyme 

In  that  fine  book  of  thine,  and  with  the  skill 

Of  thine  unerring  genius,  tell  the  tale." 

Moved  by  these  words,  I  took  my  pen  in  hand 

And  went  with  eager  longing  to  the  task. 

The  legend  of  the  nightingale  I  wrote, 

And  dedicated  it  to  him  who  rules 

The  land,  and  with  the  Shah's  name  in  the  front 

I  made  a  book  that  all  the  world  has  praised. 


VIII 

Praise  of  the  Pearl  of  Lordship,  the  Heaven-great 
Prince,  Whose  Pity  and  Whose  Purpose  Extend 
From  Heaven  to  Earth 

The  Shah,  our  heavenly  highness  and  our  king, 

Is  as  an  angel  or  a  Jupiter ; 

Face  of  the  moon  and  beauty  of  the  sun 

Are  his ;  his  fortune  and  his  blood  are  peers. 

A  prince  is  he  of  high  and  happy  line. 

Of  fair  renown  and  intellectual  power. 

The  very  glory  of  the  Osman  house. 

Elected  as  the  Sultan  of  the  land. 

Is  Shah  Mustapha  Ben  Suleiman,  born 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  249 

A  very  shah  from  royal  ancestors. 

He  is  the  man,  who  by  his  skill  to  guide, 

Has  filled  the  earth,  the  age,  with  happiness. 

Worth  is  alone  the  banner  and  the  crown 

Which  win,  by  merit,  throne  and  diadem. 

Worthy  successor  of  the  Osman  kings 

Among  the  sultans,  like  a  monument 

He  stands,  a  sun  of  bright  prosperity. 

Shah  of  the  moon  and  mirror  of  success. 

He  in  the  shining  jewel  case  of  bHss 

We  style  the  pearl  of  lofty  destinies, 

A  shah  who  is  so  filled  with  rectitude, 

That  he  is  the  Nuschernan  of  his  time; 

So  brilliant  he  in  generosity 

That  he  eclipses  Hatem  Tais'  renown. 

His  justice  is  the  ruler  of  the  world. 

Which  by  his  grace  is  nourished  and  upheld. 

His  righteous  mind  gives  happiness  to  all, 

His  loving-kindness  is  their  highest  gain. 

He  visits  with  severity  the  bad. 

But  on  the  good  he  heaps  his  favors  high. 

And  as  he  grace  and  wrath  in  men  perceives 

He  takes  the  goblet  or  he  draws  the  sword. 

He  is  a  hero  of  full  gallant  mien. 

Whose  aspect  is  the  dread  of  Rusteman. 

As  blows  across  the  mead  the  autumn  breeze 

And  the  reeds  quake,  so  quake  the  hearts  of  foes. 

When  Gog  and  Magog  thunder  forth  their  threats 

Their  vanquished  power  is  driven  back  again ; 

And  when  the  lands  with  panic  fear  are  struck, 

The  armies  of  the  foe  are  trod  in  dust. 

And  Tahmas  trembles  at  his  gleaming  sword 

As  Euas  once  before  great  Timur  quailed. 

The  Persian's  head  was  ruddy  with  his  gore ; 

No  wine  ran  ever  in  a  redder  stream. 

His  royal  heart  had  then  divided  cares. 

To  terrify  his  foes,  and  heal  his  friends. 

Fear  of  the  Shah  dissolved  the  foeman's  rage, 

His  pity  melted  friendly  hearts  in  love. 

The  fear  of  him  made  Rusteman  grow  weak, 


250  FASLI 

And  fly,  with  bloody  spoils  behind  him  trailed. 

And  while  his  loving-kindness  calmed  the  world 

He  won  the  love  alike  of  young  and  old. 

And  while  his  might  and  power  waxed  eminent 

He  brought  the  hearts  of  all  to  beat  with  his. 

As  the  high  cypress  flings  a  shadow  round, 

His  presence  crushed  in  agony  his  foes ; 

Before  his  greatness  and  his  loftiness, 

The  spirit  of  earth's  peoples  ebbed  away. 

And  were  the  doughty  Dschenschid  living  yet, 

He'd  give  himself  in  slavery  to  the  Shah. 

When  Skender  first  his  gleaming  grandeur  saw 

He  wished  to  be  the  slave  of  such  a  king. 

Were  Feridum  to  see  his  greatness  now. 

He  would  have  promised  fealty  to  his  house. 

And  on  his  threshold  Csesar  would  have  dropped, 

Like  to  a  slave,  his  laurel-covered  sword. 

O  clemency,  thou  hast  the  whole  round  world 

Led  captive  by  thy  rule  of  righteousness. 

Through  all  thine  age  of  sighs  and  bitter  tears. 

Thou  only  art  beloved  by  night  and  day. 

And  in  that  age,  great  Alexander  sees  ■ 

The  wolf  and  lamb  together  take  their  food. 

No  robber  now  in  ambush  waits  to  kill, 

Our  only  ambush  is  in  woman's  looks ; 

And  no  man  beats  his  breast  for  grief  and  woe, 

But  beats  a  drum  tap  in  the  mood  of  joy. 

How  shall  I  estimate  thy  happy  peace! 

The  happy  splendor  of  thy  sanctity ! 

Were  all  the  trees  and  bushes  turned  to  pens, 

And  every  leaf  were  changed  into  a  book. 

And  the  seven  seas  were  darkened  into  ink, 

And  every  space  was  written  o'er  and  o'er, 

By  thousand  writers,  only  one  exploit. 

Out  of  one  thousand,  would  recorded  be. 

And  as  we  here  would  ofîfer  up  our  prayer. 

Let  our  petition  be  on  justice  based. 

For  thou,  as  is  the  sun  among  the  stars, 

Art  potentate  o'er  all  the  climes  of  heaven ; 

Sagacious  Padishah  and  Lord  of  Light 


THE    ROSE    AND    THE    NIGHTINGALE  251 

Art  thou ;  for  wisdom  has  enthroned  thee  Shah. 
May  God  decree  full  length  of  years  to  thee, 
And  bring  a  just  dishonor  on  thy  foes. 
Thee  may  God's  grace  conduct  to  happiness ; 
And  fill  the  earth  with  thy  transcendent  name. 
Long  mayst  thou  wear  the  crown  upon  thy  brow, 
And  may  thine  enemies  be  brought  to  naught. 
God  grant  long  life  to  all  the  royal  house 
And  give  the  land  joy,  rain,  and  industry. 
May  age  and  peace  and  happiness  arrive, 
And  all  thy  reign  with  endless  glory  shine. 
Who  to  this  prayer  of  mine  responds  Amen 
May  no  misfortune  ever  plague  his  life! 


IX 

The  Beginning  of  the  Fascinating  Narrative,  and  of 
THE  Heart-ravishing  Fable 

Speak,  Nightingale,  thy  accents  utter  clear, 
And  from  thy  secret  haunt  reveal  thyself; 
Thou  knowest  full  well  the  meaning  that  lies  hid 
Within  the  rose-bed  of  the  inmost  mind. 
Long  hast  thou  tarried,  silent  as  a  bud ; 
Breathe  out  the  meditation  of  the  Rose, 
Let  thy  voice  warble  in  the  voice  of  love 
A  song  instinct  with  love's  own  melody. 
So  sweet  that  Sohre,  when  thy  lay  is  heard. 
The  lute  shall  fling  in  anger  to  the  ground. 
And  thus  the  Nightingale  in  Gülistan 
Began,  with  song,  her  legendary  tale. 
Once,  in  the  ancient  days  that  long  are  past, 
Over  a  country  pleasant  above  all, 
There  lived  a  shah,  the  reigning  king  of  Kum, 
And  he  was  gracious,  mild,  and  liberal. 
Good  fortune  followed  every  step  he  took; 
And  he  was  fair  in  manner  as  in  face. 
In  every  action  was  he  moderate ; 
•    And  all  his  deeds  were  welcome  to  the  folk. 
Pure  was  his  mind,  his  lineage  starred  by  fame; 


252 


FASLI 

He  drew  all  hearts  by  ruth  and  tenderness ; 

He  was  a  monarch  of  a  high  descent ; 

They  named  him  Springtime,  for  his  look  was  spring. 

The  earth  he  cheered,  as  if  with  vernal  showers, 

His  presence  was  a  breath  of  paradise ; 

Far  famed  for  grandeur  and  for  graciousness, 

For  strictest  justice  bore  he  wide  renown. 

His  sovereign  word  flew  wider  than  the  wind, 

And  poured  its  torrents  like  a  foaming  stream, 

Refreshing  by  its  very  righteousness, 

Like  balmy  eastern  breezes,  earth  and  time. 

For  when  he  spoke,  men  heard  no  other  sound, 

But  his.     So  sang  the  happy  Nightingale. 

And  no  man  from  the  scabbard  drew  his  sword ; 

Even  the  sword-lily  vanished  from  the  heath ; 

And  never  pointed  weapon  made  a  wound, 

Except  the  thorns  that  pierce  the  bulbul's  breast. 

And  not  a  crown  was  ravished  against  right ; 

And  the  east  wind  the  tulip's  circlet  spared. 

Though  earth  were  mantled  with  a  host  of  green, 

A  leafy  company  that  none  may  count, 

'Twere  easier  far  to  number  forest  leaves 

Than  count  the  flowers  that  in  his  palace  grew. 

Like  to  a  guard-troop,  helmeted  with  gold. 

Narcissus  flowers  were  ranged  in  countless  bands ; 

With  lips  and  beakers  blushing  ruby  red. 

The  lovely  flowers  as  cup-bearers  attend ; 

The  lilies  stand  full-armed  like  sentinels. 

Mail  clad  in  steely  green,  with  flashing  sword. 

There  many  cypresses  toss  high  their  heads. 

And  verdant  banners  thickly  cover  them. 

From  the  high  walls  a  shower  of  thorns  is  shot. 

As  lances  hurtle,  and  lay  lions  low. 

Ambassadors  in  crowds,  from  east  and  west. 

Bring  crowns  to  him,  and  eager  tribute  yield — 

Jewels  that  blaze  like  planets  of  the  sky, 

And  gems  the  prize  of  fortune's  brightest  hour. 

Within  his  grove  he  has  a  stately  rose. 

The  grace  of  God  is  watching  over  it; 

And  he  is  happy  in  a  daughter  fair. 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  253 

Who,  like  the  rose-bush,  beautifies  the  world. 

Her  name  is  Rose,  though  she  is  still  a  bud — 

A  bud  in  beauty's  garden  fresh  as  morn: 

Round  were  these  buds,  like  ruddy  -lips  that  called 

For  kisses  with  a  passionate  desire ; 

Such  was  the  beauty  that  belonged  to  them. 

That  all  the  world  enamored  gazed  on  them. 


X 

Description  of  the  Rose's  Beauty  in  Every  Member 

Graceful  indeed  are  all  the  Rose's  tints, 

Above,  beneath,  they  move  with  equal  charm, 

And  all  their  life  expresses  beauty's  self ; 

And  each  is  dowered  with  equal  loveliness. 

Her  restless-streaming  and  dishevelled  locks 

Were  long  life  to  the  heart  of  those  who  loved. 

And  she  was  beauty's  sum  and  monogram. 

By  whom  to  earth  descended  human  bliss; 

And  many  a  heart  within  those  meshes  lay. 

And  pined  as  mine  did,  from  a  thousand  wounds. 

Her  figure  was  like  boughs  from  paradise, 

The  lotus  at  the  sight  obeisance  made ; 

Her  figure  kills  all  other  trees,  and  puts 

The  cypress  and  the  plane-tree  out  of  mind. 

Never  did  cypress  wave  with  such  a  grace; 

For  soulful  was  that  figure  of  the  Rose. 

The  constellations'  signet  crystalline 

Shines  out  like  Alexander's  looking-glass. 

Venus  in  Sagittarius  is  she. 

Where  sun  and  moon  together  cross  the  sky. 

And  so  her  countenance  a  tablet  is 

On  which  the  Lord  has  written — "  A  child  of  light," 

And  in  her  eyebrows,  rising  o'er  her  eyes. 

We  see  the  double  moon  that  comes  in  Mars. 

Joined  like  the  double  arches  of  a  bridge 

Are  those  twin  bows  of  beauty  and  delight. 

Without  that  portico  of  loveliness, 

The  house  of  beauty  would  to  ruin  fall. 


254 


FASLI 

And  those  two  arches  lead  into  the  house, 

Where  beauty's  self  is  fostered  as  a  child. 

How  skilfully  the  magic  bow  is  strung, 

The  double  bow  with  but  a  single  span ! 

And  every  glance  that  from  this  bow  is  shot 

Flies  to  the  mark  and  makes  the  red  blood  flow. 

That  eye — enchantment's  self  is  resting  there, 

And  sorcery's  fountain  springs  beneath  that  brow. 

Whoever  looks  upon  those  lustrous  eyes 

Must  cry  "  Now  God  be  with  you,  lady  fair." 

For  like  Narcissus  flowers  the  eyes  adorn 

The  happy  beauty  garden  of  the  face. 

Twin  stars  of  flame  are  they,  which  archers  shoot, 

Like  arrows,  from  the  strong  and  bended  bow. 

Two  Turks,  who  in  the  court  of  Shinar's  plain 

Fall  drowsy,  after  drinking,  to  the  floor. 

The  glance  that  subjugates  the  heart  of  all 

Is  like  a  dagger  by  the  acid  worn. 

Which  keener  grows  with  every  wound  it  deals ; 

For  every  arrowed  glance  the  heart's  blood  draws. 

The  sidelong  glances  are  as  skirmishers — 

A  band  of  lancers  rushing  into  fight. 

Each  waving  ringlet  is  a  teazing  bolt. 

That  gives  unrest,  not  comfort,  to  the  soul. 

Her  nose  is  like  a  shadow's  streak  of  cloud, 

In  which  the  signature  of  beauty  lives ; 

It  is  a  jasmine,  budding  and  unblown, 

Set  in  the  beauty  garden  of  the  face. 

A  finger,  which,  by  power  of  sorcery. 

Has  cut  the  circle  of  the  moon  in  twain. 

Her  cheeks,  what  are  they  but  two  roses  fresh, 

Which  with  the  great  archangel  converse  hold? 

Two  ruddy  pages  in  which  boys  have  read 

Their  earliest  lesson  in  the  lore  of  love? 

Nay,  they  are  likest  to  the  rising  sun, 

From  which  the  earth  illumination  draws. 

The  little  mole  upon  the  lady's  cheek 

Is  but  a  foil  to  set  her  beauty  off ; 

'Tis  but  a  sign  of  noble  ancestry, 

A  seed  of  beauty  on  a  field  of  flowers, 


THE    ROSE    AND    THE    NIGHTINGALE  255 

There  never  fails  on  every  countenance 

Some  line  or  feature  that  commands  the  whole; 

No  mole  can  such  pre-eminence  assert ; 

It  is  her  eyes  that  captivate  our  gaze. 

The  ears  with  pearls  that  not  a  blemish  own 

Reflected  on  the  sea  their  beauty  show ; 

They  are  two  roses  upon  which  the  dew 

Of  dazzling  pearls  is  radiantly  set. 

The  lips  which  quite  eclipse  the  world's  delights 

Are  like  the  holiness  which  Mary  showed, 

They  are  like  rubies  which  attract  men's  souls 

And  touch  their  spirit  e'en  without  a  word. 

And  if  I  should  make  known  those  lips'  delight, 

What  shall  I  say  in  reference  to  the  mouth? 

'Tis  true  that  God  created  worlds  from  naught. 

But  I  am  uncreative,  vain  my  words. 

The  tongue  is  like  a  singing  nightingale 

Which  nests  above  a  murmuring  waterfall ; 

It  is  a  bird  whose  words  are  brilliant 

As  are  the  rubies  in  a  jewel  case. 

A  wise  interpreter  whose  words  are  true, 

Revealing  all  the  secrets  of  the  heart, 

The  teeth  are  nothing  but  the  dewy  pearls. 

Which  glitter  on  the  rosebuds  of  the  grove. 

They  are  the  precious  stones  that  form  a  link 

Between  two  rows  of  ruddy  carbuncle; 

They  are  the  jewels  in  a  jewel  case. 

Which  in  concealment  have  their  radiance  hid. 

Their  sugared  sweetness  every  sweet  excels; 

And  even  honey  doubly  sweet  outvie. 

The  chin  is  like  a  beauty  apple  hung. 

With  ever-changing  charms  it  wins  the  eye; 

The  apple  is  the  fairest  fruit  of  all. 

The  Rose's  chin  is  more  desirable. 

And  as  the  quince  that  hangs  unplucked,  she  says, 

"  I  am  the  fruit  of  beauty ;   pluck  me  not." 

The  dimple  on  the  chin  is  like  a  well ; 

And  he  who  falls  therein  must  captive  bide. 

The  chin  is  like  to  beauty's  tambourine. 

On  which  the  dangling  locks  their  soft  blows  ply ; 


256  faSli 

And  when  their  sporting  pattering  they  begin 

It  is  the  march  of  beauty  that  they  sound. 

Her  neck  is  Hke  a  taper  camphor  wliite 

And  darkened  with  the  film  of  falling  locks. 

Without  is  light,  within  a  burning  fire, 

A  flame  of  pride  and  yet  of  fickleness. 

Most  it  resembles  some  white  cloud  of  heaven, 

A  silver  column  set  in  beauty's  hall. 

And  we  may  well  divine  her  arms  are  like 

The  handles  of  some  vase  in  silver  wrought. 

By  the  trumpeter  of  these  fair  arms 

A  thousand  heads  have  fallen  in  blood  and  wrath ; 

Hers  are  the  whitest  arms  in  all  the  land. 

White  as  the  hand  of  Moses  once  became. 

Her  arm  rests  in  a  sleeve  it  fills  with  light; 

Like  to  a  crystal,  which  itself  is  clear. 

The  hand  is  matchless  both  in  charming  shape 

And  in  the  light  which  beauty  gives  to  it. 

The  Lord  has  given  this  hand  the  bracelet  fair 

Of  fascination  that  surrounds  the  wrist. 

Under  that  hand,  by  its  desired  caress. 

The  country  and  the  people  rest  subdued. 

Nor  does  the  henna  dye  those  fingers  red, 

But  naturally  the  tips  are  coralline. 

For  each  fair  finger  is  a  silver  pen 

Which  writes  the  winning  verses  of  the  heart. 

The  hand  is  like  the  moon ;  the  fist,  the  sun. 

The  fingers  are  the  pleasant  beams  they  cast. 

And  as  the  almighty  Scribe  their  outline  formed, 

So  wrote  he  beauty  in  each  finger  nail. 

For  like  a  rose-leaf  is  each  finger  nail, 

A  rose-leaf  that  adorns  the  Rose's  stem; 

And  as  each  nail  is  like  the  moon  at  full, 

Each  fragment  cut  from  them  a  crescent  seems. 

Her  bosom  is  a  tablet  crystal  clear, 

A  waterfall  that  gleams  in  Paradise. 

'Tis  the  most  glorious  and  the  purest  light 

That  ever  broke  in  waves  from  height  of  heaven. 

The  feet  are  silver  pillars,  pedestals 

Supporting  beauty's  palace,  firm  and  fair. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  257 

They  soar  like  arrows  to  heaven's  highest  throne ; 
They  stand  twin  graces  ever  side  by  side, 
And  Hke  an  anchor  is  the  steady  foot, 
Holding  in  heaven  the  white  moon's  argosy.  . 


XI 

The  Shah  Provides  a  Teacher  for  His  Daughter 

Rose 

As  in  daytime  does  the  moon  appear, 

In  beauty  tender,  yet  but  half  revealed. 

So  did  the  father  see  his  daughter's  face 

Grow  fair,  and  thanked  his  God  by  day  and  night. 

He  watched  her  beauty  with  an  anxious  eye. 

And  prayed  it  might  to  full  perfection  come. 

And  brought  a  teacher,  who  might  lead  his  child 

Along  the  path  where  knowledge  could  be  plucked. 

He  wrote  upon  a  book  of  pages  old 

As  flame  the  precious  lore  which  she  should  scan. 

Into  her  hand  he  placed  the  precious  book; 

It  was  a  new  adventure  for  the  Rose. 

And  from  the  ancient  tutor  she  began 

To  read  the  lines  of  learning's  alphabet. 

Page  after  page  the  volume  was  explored. 

But  all  was  dull  and  comfortless  to  her. 

She  learned  the  history  of  Gülistan, 

She  learned  by  heart  the  annals  of  Bostan, 

It  soon  had  mastered  all  Vaharistan, 

She  read  the  booke  of  history  in  Divan, 

Yet  full  of  grace,  her  mind  by  no  means  dull. 

She  had  no  skill  in  writing  prose  or  verse. 


XII 

Morning  and  Evening  in  the  Rose  Garden 

Upon  a  morning  when  the  glittering  ray 
Flooded  the  meadow  green  where  bloomed  the  Rose, 
And  when  the  sun  upon  the  world's  high  throne 
Showed  the  Rose  the  radiance  of  his  orb, 
17 


i 


258  FASLI 

The  sun  saw  joyfully  that  his  daughter  dear 

Was  in  her  freshest  beauty  full  bedecked. 

He  knew  that  she  was  worthy  happiness, 

That  she  was  worthy  of  her  princely  lot. 

Another  was  sovereign  of  a  realm  that  brought 

Quiet  and  happiness  throughout  the  world, 

His  castle  was  a  fortress  green  in  hue, 

Green  was  the  hue  of  its  foundation  stones; 

Inside  was  decked  with  high  magnificence, 

There  tulip  beds  and  cypress  boughs  abounded. 

The  master  who  had  raised  this  lofty  pile 

Had  given  to  it  the  name  of  Rosary ; 

By  those  who  knew  the  beauteous  city  well 

It  very  often  bore  another  name. 

And  every  grove  and  gelder-rose  and  mead 

Had  each  its  proper  and  especial  title. 

And  in  this  city  did  the  ruling  king 

Give  to  the  Rose  the  highest  post  of  state. 

And  that  the  city  might  be  full  of  grace 

He  gave  to  it  the  Rose  to  be  its  flower ;  J 

And  going  with  great  joy  into  the  grove. 

She  sat  upon  the  throne  in  honor  there ; 

And  straightway  all  the  world  was  filled  with  glee, 

And  all  the  world  by  balmy  winds  was  swept, 

The  fragrance  of  whose  odors  filled  the  world. 

And  by  their  charm  lapped  it  in  ecstasy ; 

In  calm  felicity  the  hours  went  by, 

And  stream  and  soil  in  blessed  peace  reposed. 


XIII 

The  Attendants  of  the  Pure  Rose,  and  a  Description 
OF  Her  Noble  Court  Service 

Of  rose  gardens  the  Bulbul  is  the  muse, 
And  thus  begins  her  clear  and  thrilling  song: 
The  Rose  of  simple  mind  and  tender  mood. 
With  frank  heart,  and  with  disposition  kind, 
Has  chosen  for  the  servants  of  her  house 
A  band  of  trusty  followers  true  of  heart. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  259 

The  first  was  guardian  of  the  sherbet  cup ; 
Comrade  of  laughter,  tears,  and  genial  hours ; 
Each  morning  she  the  rose-water  prepared, 
The  crimson-tinted  wine  that  scents  the  glade. 
'Twas  the  delight  and  joy  of  the  Divan, 
And  shared  the  name  and  honors  of  the  dew. 
Another  was  the  cheerful  cup-bearer. 
Ruby  his  belt,  and  his  cup  a  carbuncle; 
With  rosy  cheeks  he  was  conspicuous, 
For  loveliness  of  lip  the  painter's  choice. 
His  inmost  bosom  was  the  home  of  love. 
And  tinged  blood-red  with  passionate  desire. 
He  drank  the  wine  that  fed  his  passion's  fire, 
And  never  failed  the  wine  cup  to  his  hand. 
He  was  the  chief  at  each  Rose  festival, 
And  the  guests  called  him  by  the  Tulip's  name. 
Another  was  the  garden's  eye,  and  seemed 
The  very  lamp  and  eyelight  to  the  grove. 
So  full  of  contemplation  was  his  face, 
So  full  of  meditation's  sober  glance. 
The  radiance  of  his  eye  was  in  its  orb, 
And  wise  men  saw  that  it  was  crystal  clear. 
This  was  the  prophet  of  the  sinless  glance. 
Who  stood  the  president  of  the  Divan. 
Five  golden  coins  he  found,  and  in  his  hand 
He  bore  them  on  the  petals  of  his  cup : 
He  handed  round  the  goblet  night  and  day, 
And  late  and  early  was  he  drunk  with  wine; 
So  long  as  wine  was  flowing,  at  his  board 
He  would  not  close  his  eye  till  dawn  of  day. 
The  eye-glance  of  the  close  in  sooth  was  he, 
And  in  the  rose-bed  is  Narcissus  called ; 
And  since  he  holds  his  goblet  in  his  hand 
The  gold  Cup  is  he  among  flowerets  named. 
Sword-Bearer  was  another  waiting-man  ; 
The  guardian  of  the  spacious  Rosary ; 
He  bore  his  naked  sword  behind  the  Rose, 
And  night  and  day  he  closely  guarded  her. 
A  fencer  of  incomparable  skill 
Was  he,  in  short,  the  prefect  of  the  burg. 


26o  FASLI 

A  valiant  Cerberus  and  dragon  he, 
Whose  sword  and  dagger  never  left  his  hand. 
He  was  in  very  truth  a  trusty  slave, 
And  wide  and  free  his  reputation  spread. 
In  the  rose  garden  his  acquaintances 
Had  styled  him  the  Free  Lily  of  the  glade. 
And  there  was  still  another,  free  as  he, 
Whose  form  had  grown  as  lofty  as  his  mind; 
Towering  he  stood,  with  high  and  graceful  head, 
He  was  the  very  emir  of  the  grove. 
Tall  as  a  column  did  he  seem  to  risC;, 
,  And  as  an  arrow  straight  his  course  he  took ; 
And  so  in  Gülistan  by  day  and  night 
He  watched  as  porter  at  the  entrance  gate. 
By  night  and  day  his  faithful  watch  he  kept. 
Upright  to  stand  was  what  he  most  desired ; 
He  recked  not  that  his  day-long  post  was  hard. 
While  on  one  foot  he  stood  before  the  gate ; 
He  was  a  man  of  stature  eminent 
A  mighty  man,  and  Cypress  was  his  name. 
There  was  another,  like  a  messenger 
Becapped,  who  pilfered  crowns  for  livelihood ; 
No  parallel  of  his  this  world  has  seen ; 
He  ever  seemed  to  outstrip  all  rivalry. 
Soon  as  he  burst  from  out  the  western  post. 
He  reached  within  a  twinkling  to  the  east. 
He  was  so  light,  that  while  his  course  he  took, 
No  cloud  of  dust  arose  beneath  his  feet. 
A  youngster  was  he,  boisterous  in  play, 
And  East  Wind  was  his  title  in  the  world. 
Another  was  of  purest  character, 
And  simple  in  his  mind,  and  frank  in  mien ; 
His  inmost  bosom  was  a  well  unstained, 
And  fair  as  were  his  cheeks,  that  all  admired. 
And  yielding  was  his  tender  heart  to  love; 
His  artless  nature  moves  another's  smile. 
And,  while  his  heart  was  thus  so  pure  and  clear, 
He  was  the  mirror-holder  to  the  Rose ; 
And  winning  was  he  from  his  babbling  flow ; 
And  men  had  given  to  him  the  name  of  Brook. 


THE   ROSE    AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  261 

Another  was  a  thief,  as  full  of  tricks 

Of  knavery  as  a  dusky  Indian. 

Well  could  he  snare  his  victim  in  a  gin ; 

He  was  a  robber  full  of  pranks  and  tricks. 

He  could  the  thread  spin  out  with  marvellous  skill 

And  hang  suspended  by  a  single  hair. 

His  subtility  was  endless,  and  more  crooks 

Were  in  it  than  in  woman's  curling  locks. 

His  heart  was  full  of  trickeries  and  feints, 

And  as  a  flower  his  name  was  Hyacinth. 

And  each  of  these  are  ranged  around  the  Rose 

As  escorts  at  the  throne  of  king  and  queen. 

And  in  the  rose  garden  from  time  to  time 

The  Rose  refreshment  seeks  in  cups  of  wine. 

The  Rose  alone  of  all  the  flowers  around 

Was  decked  with  satisfying  grace,  and  hence 

Fit  opportunity  she  gained,  in  which 

She  might  for  brighter  happiness  prepare. 


XIV 

How  IN  THE  Morning  the  Mirror-holder  of  the  Tender- 
cheeked  Rose  Holds  the  Mirror,  and  How  the  Rose 
IS  Proud  of  Her  Beauty 

It  was  in  the  bright  morning  of  the  day, 
And  lo,  her  face  was  in  the  mirror  shown ; 
And  in  the  radiance  gleamed  her  lovely  face, 
For  it  was  mirrored  in  the  placid  brook. 
And  in  a  thousand  ways  the  Rose  was  ware 
That  all  the  world  believed  how  fair  she  was. 
She  raised  herself  above  her  cloak  of  night, 
And  freshly  in  the  streaming  sunlight  waked ; 
To  lay  her  fair  attire  in  fullest  view 
She  set  herself  upon  a  ruby  throne; 
Radiant  indeed  her  beauty  there  appeared ; 
'Twas  red  on  red  in  brilliancy  shone. 
She  sat  like  monarch  'mid  his  people  throned ; 
All  other  kings  were  dust  upon  the  road. 
But  that  her  beauty  may  be  manifest, 


202  FASLI 

Needs  must  she  cast  her  image  on  the  glass. 
And  lo !  the  Brook  before  her  ran  his  course, 
And  laid  the  glittering  mirror  at  her  feet. 
And  when  she  saw  herself  reflected  there, 
So  lovely,  she  was  rapt  in  wonderment. 
And  when  she  saw  herself  so  fresh  and  bright 
And  lovely,  she  was  touched  with  vanity ; 
And  blushing  red  in  her  own  charms  delight, 
"  Ah,  God,"  she  cried,  "  there  is  no  god  but  God ! 
What  beauty  hast  thou  given  to  me,  O  Lord, 
What  excellence  among  the  flowers  is  mine ! 
What  gracious  eyebrows  arch  above  mine  eyes ! 
Like  to  a  canopy  they  set  them  ofî. 
How  diamond-like  and  gray  those  orbs  appear! 
Their  gaze  might  stir  the  pulses  of  the  dead. 
How  lustrous  are  those  amber  locks !     Their  light 
Must  strike  amazement  to  the  minds  of  man. 
And  oh,  how  dazzling  are  these  cheeks  of  mine ! 
For  after  these  the  moon  itself  is  dim. 
And  what  a  beauty  mark  that  little  mole. 
Which  more  becoming  makes  the  tender  cheek! 
Who  now  will  value  eyes  that  fiercely  scowl. 
And  the  fell  glances  that  like  swords  they  wave? 
But  here  are  eyelashes  that  twinkle  fast. 
Like  friends  that  stand  together  ranged  in  war. 
And  then  that  mouth,  whose  breath  is  sweet  enough 
To  bring  the  mantling  life-blush  to  the  dead." 
The  bolt  of  self-love  pierced  her  to  the  heart, 
And  she  was  pride-struck  by  her  loveliness, 
"  And  oh,"  she  said,  "  is  houri  in  the  world, 
Or  peri,  so  delightsome  to  behold  ? 
Was  ever  one  with  beauty  so  bedecked 
As  I  am  in  the  universe  beheld? 
Such  beauteous  charm  as  God  has  given  to  me, 
To  none  in  this  life  has  he  given  e'en  this. 
And  can  my  beauty  now  be  paralleled. 
And  is  not  this  my  face  without  compare? 
The  world  admits  that  ne'er  in  time  before 
Has  such  a  prize  of  beauty  been  revealed; 
I  am  the  beauty  that  has  never  like, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  263 

The  only  fair  with  whom  not  one  can  vie." 

Thus  she  extolled  herself  to  honor's  height, 

And  made  the  claim  of  beauty  absolute, 

Then  called  the  Eastern  Wind,  her  messenger, 

And  said,  *'  O  faithful  bearer  of  my  words, 

Assist  me  in  my  dire  perplexity, 

And  lighten  up  for  me  the  night  of  doubt. 

Traverse  the  realms  of  Syria  and  Kum, 

And  glancing  over  all  the  plains  you  cross, 

(Either  in  Occident  or  Orient, 

Where  evening  darkles,  or  where  morning  glows). 

See  if  in  any  spot  you  chance  to  reach 

Aught  fairer  you  can  find  in  face  than  me ; 

If  anywhere  there's  beauty  like  to  mine. 

And  whether  there's  perfection  reaching  mine. 

Make  thou  my  beauty  known  to  all  the  world. 

That  he  who  listens  may  with  passion  burn. 

Let  people  of  the  time  be  made  aware. 

All  beauty  has  been  consecrate  to  me ; 

That  mortals  have  not  had  it  as  their  dower 

In  shape  so  faultless  as  belongs  to  me ; 

The  fair  must  learn  to  estimate  their  charms 

Aright,  and  know  how  few  they  do  possess, 

And  that  I  only  may  true  beauty  claim; 

The  rest  are  slaves,  while  I  alone  am  queen." 

The  herald  East-Wind,  as  he  heard  her  word. 

Kissed  low  the  ground  before  the  monarch's  feet. 

"  Thou  art  indeed  the  only  beautiful. 

My  Queen,  the  beautiful,  the  Queen  of  Light. 

Who  will  refuse  to  say  that  this  is  true. 

Excepting  him  whose  sight  is  lost  to  him? 

Who  to  thy  beauty's  question  answers  '  No '  ? 

All  estimate  thy  grace  as  bright  and  pure, 

And  own  the  whole  wide  world  is  filled  with  light 

From  thy  great  beauty,  as  from  dawn  of  day. 

I'll  make  my  circuit  through  the  farthest  nook. 

From  the  bright  Orient  to  the  cloudy  West." 

He  spoke,  and  started  straightway  on  his  course, 

Blew  a  loud  blast,  and  travelled  with  the  wind ; 

Like  to  the  flocks  of  birds  he  shaped  his  course. 


204  FASLI 

And  saw  the  beautiful  in  every  place; 
He  quickly  travelled  o'er  the  land  of  Kum, 
And  soon  on  Persia's  confines  found  himself. 
Soon  to  the  realms  of  India  did  he  cross. 
Next  to  Manchuria,  and  to  China's  plain. 
And  here  on  beauty's  track  he  found  himself, 
And  heard  of  one  called  Beauty's  King  Supreme. 
Into  his  presence  eagerly  he  went, 
And,  blowing  softly,  saw  him  face  to  face; 
So  o'er  the  whole  wide  world  he  passed,  and  saw 
Naught  far  or  near  in  beauty  like  his  friend. 
By  day  and  night  he  traversed  hill  and  dale. 
Now  hear  what  at  the  last  befell  to  him. 


XV 

The  East  Wind  Finds  the  Nightingale,  and  They 
Discuss  the  Beauty  of  the  Rose 

Thus  the  betrothed  of  that  lorn  lover  sang. 

In  verses  such  as  these  his  song  of  pain : 

"  There  was  a  wanderer,  the  slave  of  want. 

Who  had  full  many  a  wrong  endured  of  love, 

His  bosom  had  its  pain,  his  heart  its  rage; 

He  was  a  dervish,  cowled  like  any  monk. 

By  day  he  gave  full  voice  to  his  complaint, 

And  in  the  night-time  watched  the  skies  of  heaven. 

His  sole  existence  nowadays  was  love. 

For  love  alone  had  claimed  him  for  its  slave. 

And  in  his  day  of  trial  was  his  dust  İ 

In  love  compacted,  and  in  love  absorbed: 

With  love  his  very  essence  was  compounded, 

In  love  the  letter  of  his  life  was  writ. 

And  now  without  an  object  in  his  life. 

He  was  in  love's  consuming  fire  inflamed. 

At  times  he  sang  aloud  a  song  of  love. 

While  sighs  of  bitter  sorrow  tore  his  breast. 

He  sang  Ghasele,  winsome  youth  and  fair. 

Who  drew  the  souls  of  many  a  neophyte 

By  his  pure  mind  and  by  his  brilliant  charms ; 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  265 

A  noble  stripling  gay,  and  soft  of  heart. 

His  voice  brought  cheerfulness  to  every  heart, 

His  music  banished  sorrow  far  away, 

And  when  his  flute-like  tones  swelled  out  amain. 

In  every  soul  he  kindled  passion's  fire. 

His  breathing  tones  sent  gladness  through  the  land. 

And  those  who  heard  him  plainly  understood. 

In  short,  he  was  a  tender  juvenal. 

In  all  things  ready  for  some  enterprise. 

Though  beggared  now,  forlorn,  and  sick  for  love, 

He  was  a  noble  in  descent  and  birth, 

Who  to  the  winds  his  lands  and  lineage  threw, 

And  gave  himself  to  melancholy  thoughts. 

His  coronet  and  throne  capricious  spurned. 

And  to  the  power  of  love  surrendered  all. 

For  he  indeed  for  very  love  was  crazed. 

And  as  a  doting  maniac  roved  the  world. 

His  talk  was  nothing  but  the  voice  of  love. 

And  he  was  named  the  Wandering  Nightingale. 

With  rapid  foot  the  East  Wind  sped  his  way 

Like  a  bird  messenger  o'er  all  the  world; 

And  lo !  there  reached  his  ear  a  strain  of  love, 

In  tones  of  lamentation  dolorous. 

Arrested  by  the  song,  the  East  Wind  stood. 

Long  listening  with  delight  to  that  refrain ; 

For  such  a  chanson  made  his  heart  to  swell, 

And  seemed  like  summer  fragrance  in  the  air. 

Forward  he  hasted  to  behold  the  wight. 

Who  was  so  love-struck,  and  so  woe-begone; 

And  said :  "  Thou  art  indeed  plunged  deep  in  love, 

And  from  love's  goblet  drunken  with  desire. 

Thy  voice  infuses  passion  in  the  soul. 

Why  is  it  that  thou  kindlest  thus  our  blood? 

Whence  didst  thy  song  its  powerful  spell  obtain, 

That  thus  it  sets  on  fire  the  human  breast? 

Who  art  thou,  by  what  name  mayst  thou  be  called  ? 

And  from  what  master  didst  thou  learn  thy  lay? 

Whence  came  to  thee  this  chosen  lot  of  thine? 

What  inspiration  is  it  makes  thy  soul? 

What  means  the  ecstasy  that  rules  thy  strain, 


266  FASLI 

And  gives  thy  voice  its  overmastering  charm? 

Thou  whom  such  gifts  transcendent  glorify, 

How  is  it  thou  art  fallen  thus  so  low  ? 

Why  do  thy  brows  this  mournful  cowl  disgrace, 

And  thou,  why  art  thou  seated  in  the  dust? 

Love  in  thy  very  countenance  is  writ, 

And  love's  wound  plainly  has  transfixed  thy  heart. 

Art  thou  in  love?     How  has  thy  passion  fared? 

Now  is  the  time  to  tell,  so  tell  me  true." 

Now  as  these  words  the  Bulbul  listened  to,  ] 

She  roused  in  Gulgul  joy  and  love's  delight.  i 

"  Thou  seest  here,"  said  he,  "  a  mendicant,  j 

With  tearful  eyes,  that  plead  to  pity's  soul.  İ 

'Tis  love  has  lessoned  me  in  sorrow's  school,  •\ 

But  never  have  I  learned  what  is  my  name.  ;! 

Thou  askest  me  the  place  from  which  I  come,  jI 

Love  is  my  origin  and  native  land.  ö 

My  foot  turns  backward  still  to  beckoning  love ; 

'Tis  love  inspires  and  gives  me  genius ; 

For  I  am  one  whose  mind  is  crazed  by  love ; 

And  in  the  world  I  wander  lost  for  love. 

Heedless  I  hurry  by,  nor  care  for  rest. 

Yet  travel  cannot  give  the  balm  I  crave. 

And  often  to  my  love  I  give  full  rein, 

Until  I  am  not  master  of  my  mind ; 

And  at  the  will  of  love,  am  driven  adrift, 

And  therefore  ever  wait  I  love's  behest; 

In  short,  this  love  pang  quite  o'ermasters  me, 

And  takes  away  from  me  the  power  of  choice. 

Now  I  am  brainless,  footless,  purposeless, 

Tossed  like  a  plaything  at  the  whim  of  Fate. 

I  am  constrained  by  love,  and  driven  along 

Hither  and  thither  like  an  autumn  leaf. 

I  have  no  other  impulse  in  my  soul, 

Where  love  and  love  alone  predominates. 

The  shame  of  love  is  more  than  honor's  meed 

To  me,  and  more  than  fortune's  smile. 

The  very  gloom  of  love  is  sweet  to  me, 

For  what  were  worldly  bliss  without  this  flame? 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  267 

The  hand  of  pleasure  has  made  smooth  and  clear 
The  mirror  of  my  heart  with  Love's  own  glass. 
Love  is  no  shame,  for  love  is  happiness ; 
True  shame  in  worldly  happiness  is  found." 

Soon  as  the  East  Wind  heard  these  words  of  love 

He  murmured  loudly,  thrilled  with  deep  delight. 

Thus  spoke  he :  "  O  thou,  all  afflicted  one, 

Who  from  the  love  pang  of  thy  secret  wounds 

Groanest  and  sighest,  like  a  man  in  love, 

Tell  me  where  is  the  lady  of  thy  love? 

Toward  whom  does  thy  soul's  intuition  turn? 

Who  is  the  Leila  that  enchains  thee  thus? 

Who  is  it  that  has  burdened  thee  with  grief? 

Where  is  the  Schirin  that  thus  plagues  Ferhadan? 

Who  is  the  Afra  of  thine  ardent  flame  ? 

Say  to  what  king  thou  wouldst  devote  thy  blood  ? 

For  whom  is  it  thou  sufferest  loss  of  rest? 

And  whose  compassion  dost  thou  supplicate? 

What  light  in  all  the  world  has  fame  enough 

To  keep  thee  moth-like  hovering  in  its  flame? 

And  of  what  rose  art  thou  the  nightingale, 

That  thou  shouldst  be  the  slave  of  music's  sound  ?  " 

Thus  spoke  the  warbler :  "  Gracious  are  thy  words, 

And  therefore  will  I  make  my  chanson  plain. 

From  the  first  moment  that  I  was  conceived, 

Love  with  my  inmost  essence  was  entwined. 

And  in  my  mother's  womb  it  came  to  me 

That  love  should  be  my  only  intellect. 

And  that  great  painter  Nature  made  for  me 

The  only  form  of  beauty  to  be  love. 

And  since  my  life  was  in  my  spirit  locked, 

Only  by  love  can  I  my  soul  unlock. 

And  without  hindrance  or  reserve,  so  far, 

I  have  outpoured,  unchecked,  my  song  of  love. 

Yet  know  I  not  for  whom  I  burn,  for  whom 

By  night  and  day  I  suffer  in  this  flame. 

However  may  this  flame  continuous  glow, 

I  know  not  yet  how  it  was  kindled  first. 

So  runs  my  life ;  a  solitary  wight 


268  FASLI 

I  live  in  ignorance  of  her  I  love, 

Of  her  who  lit  in  me  this  flaming  torch ; 

To  whom  I  ever  lift  this  suppliant  hand. 

Restless,  ah  me,  these  weary  sighs  I  heave, 

Yet  do  not  know  the  queen  for  whom  I  sigh. 

This  bitter  phght  is  all  the  life  I  know, 

Of  all  things  else  I  am  in  ignorance. 

Now  tell  me,  what  thy  current's  course  may  be, 

Whence  comest  thou,  and  whither  dost  thou  wend? 

What  message  is  it  thou  art  sent  upon. 

And  who  it  is  thou  seekest  in  this  land? 

What  is  the  object  of  thy  wandering  search. 

And  who  thou  art,  and  what  thy  name  may  be? 

What  was  the  first  beginning  of  thy  life, 

And  in  what  country  was  thine  origin? 

Thou  bringest  fragrance  of  the  truth  sincere, 

And  needst  must  be  a  creature  trustworthy; 

Thy  breath  gives  life  to  every  human  soul,  | 

And  in  thy  fragrance  is  a  human  soul. 

The  breath  of  health  is  certainly  thy  dower, 

Before  it  even  the  dead  might  come  to  life." 

The  East  Wind  to  these  golden  words  gave  ear. 

Then  answered :  "  Stranger,  amiable  and  good, 

I,  in  return  for  all  that  thou  hast  told. 

Will  tell  my  story  with  the  strictest  faith. 

I  also,  like  Abdallah  strenuous. 

Am  in  the  same  perplexity  with  thee. 

I  think  a  child  who  is  with  beauty  dowered 

As  fickle  and  unstable  as  the  wind ; 

It  is  desire  that  sends  me  wandering. 

And  yields  to  me  the  essence  of  my  life. 

Like  to  a  vortex  runs  my  eddying  course ; 

And  without  head  or  foot  I  drift  away. 

Nor  can  I  stop  a  while  and  take  repose ; 

Desire  is  all  the  power  to  act  I  know. 

My  origin  is  pleasure  and  desire. 

Which  in  the  howling  desert  gave  me  life. 

And  for  my  outward  lot,  my  happy  friend, 

I  in  a  grove  of  roses  have  my  home. 

And  am  a  servant  to  the  sovereign  Rose, 


I 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  269 

And  wait  upon  her  pleasure  constantly, 

My  breath  refreshment  brings  to  all  the  flowers, 

And  cheers  the  rose  parterre  with  cheerful  light." 

Then  said  the  Nightingale :  "  O  happy  friend, 

Thy  breath  brings  health  and  purity  to  me! 

But  what  is  that  you  call  a  rose  garden? 

And  prithee  tell  me  who  this  princess  is  ?  " 

Then  said  the  Wind  which  fosters  life  in  things: 

"  Gladly  I  tell,  and  thou  shalt  joyful  hear. 

There  stands  a  place  within  the  realms  of  Kum. 

'Tis  called  the  rose  parterre,  the  Rose's  realm; 

There,  in  a  climate  genial,  this  burg 

Is  equally  renowned  with  paradise. 

Of  paradise  with  Eden's  beauties  blent; 

And  flowers,  fresh  flowers  are  ever  blooming  there. 

The  waters  gleam  like  springs  of  paradise; 

The  dust  is  fragrant  as  the  purest  musk; 

The  watered  plain  is  like  the  mirror  stream 

That  flashes  over  Eden's  happy  realm; 

The  dust  is  naught  but  amber  all  unpriced ; 

This  home  of  healing  is  a  paradise. 

Within  'tis  filled  with  all  things  beautiful, 

And  siren  strains  incomparable  resound. 

Well  may  it  bear  the  name  of  paradise, 

For  every  glade  with  glowing  houris  shines. 

The  Rose  is  queen  and  ruler  of  the  town. 

Which  holds  the  lordship  over  all  the  world. 

Unique  for  beauty  is  the  reigning  Rose, 

And  her  charm  beautifies  all  other  worlds. 

She  is  the  princess  of  things  beautiful, 

The  moon  of  beauty  in  the  arch  of  heaven. 

All  spheres  celestial  lie  below  her  feet 

When  she  sits  throned  on  cushions  of  delight. 

Be  she  by  me  both  praised  and  idolized. 

Whose  sight  might  lap  you  into  ecstasy! 

The  bloom  of  love  gives  radiance  to  her  eyes ; 

Enchantment  fills  the  meshes  of  her  hair. 

Her  brows  are  beauteous  as  the  crescent  moon ; 

Her  mole  is  like  a  glittering  star  of  eve ; 

The  eye,  when  angry,  like  a  dragon  gleams ; 


270 


FASLI 

It  draws  the  dagger  against  all  who  love.  İ| 

No  courage  can  endure  the  terror  spread 

By  the  arched  brows  that  overstand  her  eyes. 

The  flash,  so  soon  as  it  is  felt  by  man, 

Confounds  his  senses,  and  defeats  his  wit. 

Those  eyes  can  rob  the  very  soul  of  life; 

The  whisper  of  the  mouth  alone  restore  it. 

He  who  their  beauty  looks  upon,  declares 

'Tis  God  who  sends  a  blessing  on  this  face; 

In  short,  she  only  does  the  ideal  show, 

As  being  the  only  beauty  in  the  world. 

And  I  have  wandered  in  a  hundred  realms, 

And  never  have  I  found  the  match  of  her. 

For  beauty  is  in  her  so  eminent 

That  she  is  the  perfection  of  the  world. 

She  is  the  padishah,  the  queen  of  light, 

And  as  a  slave  to  such  a  queen  I  bow ; 

I  swiftly  speed  her  errand  when  she  bids, 

And  flash  along  my  journey  like  the  wind." 

When  Bulbul  had  these  words  attentive  heard. 

Straight  to  the  earth  he  groaning  fell  for  grief; 

For  in  his  heart  the  love-fire  had  been  lit 

And  blazed  like  tapers  in  a  holy  place; 

Endurance  now  was  overcome  by  love ; 

He  flung  himself  with  cries  into  the  dust. 

His  breast  was  filled  with  passionate  desire, 

And  in  the  pain  itself  he  found  delight. 

The  dew  of  ardent  passion  filled  his  eye, 

And  pangs  of  love  his  inmost  bosom  tore ; 

He  cried  aloud  with  anguish,  sighed,  and  groaned, 

His  eyes  were  wet  with  tears  unworthy  love. 

Then  said  he  to  the  East  Wind  anxiously : 

"  Why  should  this  sudden  flame  consume  my  life  ? 

What  is  the  arrow  that  unfeeling  fate 

To  my  bared  bosom  has  this  instant  shot  ? 

What  is  the  goblet  whose  enticing  draught 

Has  robbed  me  of  my  senses  while  I  drank? 

How  shall  I  reason  of  the  dazzling  light 

That  flutters  round  my  spirit  like  a  moth? 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  271 

What  is  this  lightning  flash,  whose  sudden  blaze 

Kindles  a  world  of  terror  in  my  soul? 

What  blast  is  this  that  carries  me  away 

And  strikes  my  very  being  as  it  flies? 

What  stranger  guest  is  this  who  comes  to  me 

And  takes  away  my  reason  by  his  word? 

Peace  like  a  bird  escapes  from  out  my  hand, 

And  all  my  soul  in  utter  ashes  lies. 

The  old  distress  has  taken  the  strength  of  new, 

And  yonder  beauty  overwhelms  my  heart." 


XVI 

The  Witty  East  Wind  Counsels  the  Wandering 

Nightingale 

The  East  Wind  calmly  on  the  vagrant  gazed, 
Whose  heart  and  soul  were  lit  with  raging  flame, 
And  said,  "  Now  tell  to  me,  thou  shameless  one, 
Where  are  thy  courtesy  and  manners  fled? 
Whence  can  a  beggar  claim  such  dignity. 
That  he  in  love  could  ask  a  princess  bride? 
What  spurs  and  flogs  thee  on  to  such  extremes? 
Beware,  or  thou  will  lose  at  last  thy  wits. 
Compare  her  loftiness  with  thy  estate; 
What  can  a  beggar  want  of  royalty? 
The  Rose  is  winsome  in  a  thousand  ways, 
The  Nightingale  is  but  a  singer  clear ; 
Although  a  thousand  times  thy  love  thou  sing, 
Hope  not  the  Rose's  fragrant  charm  to  win. 
Whence  dost  thou  gain  such  fitting  dower  of  worth, 
As  makes  thee  fit  to  mate  the  balmy  Rose? 
Abandon  passion,  with  its  torments  sore, 
And  shun  this  emptiness  of  wild  desire. 
For  even  should'st  thou  live  a  thousand  years. 
Ne'er  wilt  thou  reach  the  level  of  the  Rose. 
And  though  thou  cry  Gulgul  a  thousand  times, 
Thou  never  wilt  arouse  the  lady's  heart. 
Refrain,  then,  further  to  torment  thyself. 
Nor  strike  on  iron  cold  thine  idle  blows." 


272 


FASLI 

Now  when  the  Nightingale  had  heard  these  words, 

He  burst  into  a  passionate  lament ; 

And  said :  "  Although  I  but  a  dervish  be, 

Yet  still  the  wounds  that  pain  my  heart  are  fresh. 

A  beggar  am  I  in  my  outward  guise, 

But  I  am  none  the  less  love's  padishah. 

Love  makes  me  independent  in  the  world, 

Such  beggary  as  mine  is  worth  a  crown. 

I  love  the  Rose,  and  shall  forever  love. 

And  a  fakir  may  sometimes  love  a  shah; 

Sense  is  indeed  the  guide  of  sober  life, 

But  sense  is  never  fostered  by  true  love; 

The  lover  in  his  acts  is  privileged. 

As  is  the  drunkard  and  the  beggar-man. 

He  who  would  moderation  value  first, 

Can  never  taste  the  luxury  of  love. 

The  lover  who  is  shamefaced  and  reserved 

Can  never  see  the  beauty  which  is  coy. 

Until  the  lover  scorns  the  public  blame 

He  gains  no  trust  nor  kindness  from  his  love. 

Though  I  have  no  enjoyment  of  the  Rose, 

'Tis  joy  enough  for  me  to  speak  of  her. 

Though  no  return  reward  my  passion's  pain, 

Yet  love  itself  is  fair  enough  for  me, 

And  he  who  knows  the  harmony  of  love 

Will  think  enjoyment  less  than  absence  is. 

Who  lives  in  full  fruition  of  his  love 

Is  always  fearing  it  will  fly  away ; 

He  who  contentedly  has  watched  its  flight 

Is  happy  hoping  it  will  soon  return. 

Absence  to  me  is  love  and  dignity, 

Although  fruition  be  denied  my  heart. 

I  live  in  agony's  o'erflowing  stream 

And  love's  fruition  willingly  renounce." 

The  East  Wind  saw  that  it  was  vain  to  try 

The  ardor  of  this  beggar  wight  to  quench, 

For  counsel  did  not  profit  him  a  jot. 

His  love  kept  burning  like  an  aloe-flower, 

And  all  his  words  were  emphasized  by  sighs, 

And  his  heat  withered  him  like  foliage  parched. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  273 

And  so  he  left  him,  and  pursued  his  way 
Into  the  precints  of  the  rose  garden ; 
There  at  the  ruler's  feet  he  kissed  the  ground, 
And  said  to  her,  "  O  righteous  queen  of  light, 
Let  it  be  written  with  exactest  care. 
That  above  all  the  Rose  is  beautiful, 
Though  I  through  many  realms  have  travelled 
I  have  not  found  a  beauty  like  to  thine." 


XVII 

How  THE  Lamenting  Nightingale  Comes  to  the  Garden 

OF  the  Rose 

Beset  with  pain  and  sorrow  of  the  heart 
And  overmastered  by  a  longing  keen. 
The  Nightingale  began  to  utter  loud 
His  love  forlorn  in  notes  of  bitterness ; 
An  ardent  longing  throbbed  within  his  throat, 
And  he  was  stabbed  by  keen  misfortune's  thorn. 
Struck  by  love's  pang,  like  tree  that  feels  the  axe, 
He  fell  at  last  inanimate  to  earth ; 
Fainting  from  wounds  of  love  and  pulseless  limbs, 
There  lay  he  down  as  if  by  absence  slain. 
From  songs  despondent  thus  his  love  desponds, 
And  pining  grown  as  thin  as  is  a  hair. 
At  last  the  truth  was  wrought  into  his  soul 
That  inactivity  but  adds  to  ill. 
So  up  he  rose,  and  in  fit  garments  clad, 
Set  out  upon  his  way  to  see  his  love. 
Love  seemed  to  spread  out  pinions  for  his  flight, 
O'er  field  and  hillock  bearing  him  along. 
By  the  discreet  direction  of  his  friend 
He  travelled  day  and  night  in  ardent  love. 
He  reached  the  post  town  of  United  Hearts ; 
Thence  straight  he  travelled  to  the  rose  garden. 
And  now  at  last  arrived  at  Gülistan, 
There  breathed  on  him  the  fragrance  of  his  love. 
And  on  the  outside  of  the  garden  fence 
There  came  a  friend  who  waited  sedulous, 
18 


274  FASLI 

A  traveller,  who  without  an  hour's  delay 
Was  hurrying  from  this  garden  to  the  sea. 
The  stainless  Brook,  whose  spirit  shone  in  light, 
The  pilgrim  wandering  to  see  the  world. 
Straight  from  the  garden  of  the  Rose  he  came, 
His  bosom  clad  in  spotless  fluttering  folds, 
And  when  the  Nightingale  beheld  him  come, 
With  eager  greeting  he  drew  near  to  him. 
The  Brook  a  low  obeisance  made  to  him, 
And  scanned  the  new-comer  with  eager  eye. 
He  saw  it  was  a  beggar  stood  before  him, 
A  beggar  sick  and  all  distraught  with  woe. 
'Twas  love  had  brought  him  to  that  low  estate 
And  he  was  branded  on  the  brow  by  love. 
Then  said  the  Brook,  "  O  thou  by  love  distraught. 
And  bowed  to  earth  by  love  and  suffering. 
Why  wearest  thou  this  lorn  and  lifeless  air? 
Does  now  no  heart's  blood  warm  thy  inmost  veins? 
Who  branded  this  love-token  on  thy  face? 
Who  is  it  laid  on  thee  the  name  of  love? 
Where  is  the  Mecca  of  thy  heart's  desire, 
Which  claims  thee  and  demands  thee  for  itself? 
And  what  has  made  thee  drunken  by  its  draught? 
What  cedar  with  its  shadow  blighted  thee  ?  " 

The  Nightingale  replied :  "  O  kindly  one. 
See  what  I  am,  and  do  not  question  me. 
I  am  enamored  of  a  pictured  face ; 
And  there  are  many  thousands  such  as  I ; 
I  am  a  beggar,  and  my  love  a  queen. 
I  am  all  destitute,  but  she  is  rich ; 
She  is  with  beauty  radiant  as  the  sun, 
And  I  am  duskier  than  a  sunbeam's  mote. 
In  beauty's  garden  does  she  bloom  a  Rose, 
And  I  am  naught  but  the  poor  Nightingale. 
I  by  no  name  am  known,  but  she  speaks  out. 
And  by  her  very  graces  names  herself." 

So  spoke  the  Nightingale,  and  down  he  fell, 
With  dolorous  cries  of  grief  and  notes  of  woe. 


THE    ROSE    AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  275 

Then  he  began  a  song  of  love  forlorn, 
With  trills  and  runs  of  a  many  a  circling  tone. 
"  And  love,"  he  said,  "  intoxicates  my  sense, 
Through  ardent  longing  for  that  ruby  mouth. 
The  lightning  flash  of  love  that  struck  my  heart, 
Laid  ruin  in  the  chambers  of  my  breast. 
The  heart's  endurance  can  no  longer  stand, 
It  has  been  worn  away  by  pangs  of  love. 
For  love  to  ashes  has  reduced  my  life ; 
Love  only  leaves  to  me  the  power  of  song; 
And  love  has  filled  my  inmost  heart  with  fire, 
'Tis  love  that  draws  the  sweat-drops  of  the  heart, 
For  love  has  banished  me  from  house  and  home; 
My  soul  in  sickness  languishes  through  love. 
And  love  has  wearied  out  my  tuneful  throat; 
The  secrets  of  my  soul  hath  love  betrayed. 
The  torch  of  love  has  fallen  upon  my  heart, 
'  My  soul  is  set  on  fire  by  force  of  love ; 
For  love  has  taken  my  heart  to  be  its  friend ; 
But  like  a  halter  is  this  love  to  me. 
I  am  become  a  laughing-stock  through  Love, 
And  love  has  set  my  name  among  the  fools." 

Now  as  these  accents  by  his  friend  were  heard. 
His  heart  with  tender  sympathy  was  touched. 
His  heart  with  generous  indignation  burned. 
And  to  the  pain  of  fierce  desire  he  woke. 
He  said :  "  Poor  wretch,  inebriate  of  love, 
Afflict  thyself  no  more,  for  God  is  kind. 
For  happier  fortune  has  he  destined  thee. 
For  it  was  he  who  gave  thy  love  her  charm; 
Thy  breath  of  music  penetrates  my  soul. 
And  I  will  straight  conduct  thee  to  the  Rose. 
Gaze  once  upon  her  beauty  e'er  thou  die ; 
And  in  her  joys  thine  ardent  passion  breathe." 

The  Nightingale  was  gladdened  by  these  words 
And  joy  that  moment  lighted  up  his  mind, 
"  O  sir,"  he  said,  "  is  this  but  sleep  and  dream? 
The  fragrance  of  fruition  hits  my  sense. 


276  •  FASLI 

Thou  who  has  given  me  bliss,  be  happy  thou, 

And  fortunate  in  either  universe. 

Thou  who  dost  help  me  to  my  dearest  wish. 

May  all  thy  purpose  lead  to  happiness. 

The  best  loved  news  dost  thou  convey  to  me ; 

For  guerdon,  thou  may'st  take  my  very  soul. 

I  give  to  thee  my  soul,  I  give  my  life, 

0  bring  me  to  the  jewel  of  my  love." 

He  answered :  "  Patience  and  not  haste  be  ours ; 
And  often  in  delay  is  safety  found. 
Thou,  dervish,  must  restrain  thyself  a  while, 
For  overhaste  is  slower  in  despatch. 

1  bring  thee  to  the  bower  of  loveliness. 
To  Cypress,  who  is  porter  of  the  gate. 
I  hope  by  such  expedient  that  the  Rose 
May  entertain  thee  as  a  man  of  truth." 

So  spoke  to  him  the  friend  of  purity 
And  showed  him  where  the  Rose's  meadow  lay; 
The  Nightingale  his  footsteps  followed  fast 
Until  they  reached  the  garden  of  the  Rose. 


XVIII 

How   THE   Nightingale   Entered   the   Rose   Garden 
Through  the  Kindly  Offices  of  the  Cypress 

He  saw  a  lofty  building  fair  bedight 

Like  the  green  castle  of  the  firmament, 

A  castle  emerald-bright  in  radiance. 

It  twinkled  like  a  marshalled  host  in  arms; 

Pure  was  the  water,  earth  was  sweet  as  musk. 

An  air  of  sanctity  and  plenty  reigned. 

Whoever  came  to  this  from  Edentown 

Might  think  his  resting-place  was  paradise. 

How  could  it  fail  to  be  a  paradise 

For  him  who  hoped  to  find  his  love  therein  ? 

When  the  sad  Nightingale  beheld  the  place 

Breathless  and  lost  in  wonder  did  he  stand. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  277 

Above  him  was  the  arch  of  azure  sky, 

And  at  his  feet  the  lovely  river  ran. 

Then  said  the  river :  "  Take  good  heed,  and  see 

Thou  give  some  respite  to  thy  burning  heart ; 

Meanwhile  I  stand  me  here,  and  as  a  man 

I  introduce  thee  to  the  portal's  guard." 

This  said,  he  greeting  to  the  Cypress  sent. 
Right  quick  the  Cypress  was  his  word  to  heed. 
Low  in  the  dust  his  countenance  he  laid 
And  with  his  tears  bedewed  the  thirsty  ground. 

He  said :  "  O  Cypress,  loftiest  of  mien. 

Thou  sittest  at  the  footstool  of  the  great, 

I  have  a  courteous  word  to  speak  to  thee. 

Open  thy  lips  to  me,  I  beg  of  thee ; 

For  if  thou  lend  me  for  a  while  thine  ear, 

I  know  my  prayer  at  once  will  be  fulfilled. 

Here  with  a  stranger  destitute  I  come, 

To  show  how  the  road  lay  to  this  place. 

He  is  a  man  both  kind  and  dutiful, 

Of  purest  disposition  and  intent ; 

A  dervish,  and  a  man  of  loving  heart. 

But  he  is  lorn  and  sick  from  pangs  of  love, 

In  outward  guise  he  seems  like  a  fakir, 

But  in  the  realm  of  science  he  is  prince. 

A  genial  friend,  a  comrade  tender-hearted, 

Of  blameless  mind  and  sympathetic  soul, 

A  poet  full  of  spiritual  light 

Is  he,  and  in  imagination  young." 


XIX 

How  THE  Wandering  Nightingale  Alone  in  the  Night 
Abides  With  His  Sighs  and  Weeping  Till  Morning 

'TwAS  night,  when  in  the  azure  sky  above 
The  stars  as  sleeping  closed  their  sparkling  eyes. 
When  friends  and  foes  alike  in  slumber  lay. 
Yet,  at  the  music  of  the  Nightingale, 


278 


FASLI 

Awoke,  for  Bulbul  then  all  sleepless  sate 
And  uttered  to  the  world  his  dolorous  chant, 
While  thinking  on  the  beauty  of  the  Rose, 
For  vivid  passion  wakened  in  his  heart. 
And  with  his  sad  and  melancholy  voice 
He  'gan  to  mourn  above  his  well-beloved. 
And  thinking  on  his  melancholy  plight, 
And  on  his  desolation  all  forlorn, 
He  thus  began  his  sad  and  mournful  lay : 
"  O  queen  who  dwellest  in  a  careless  realm, 

0  thou  who  art  the  moon  of  beauty's  heaven, 
Half  of  all  beauty's  bloom  belongs  to  thee; 
Thou  the  Rose-bloom  of  beauty's  paradise, 
Oh,  listen  to  the  message  that  I  bring. 

As  I  begin  to  utter  my  lament. 
For  love  of  thee  I  sicken  to  my  death; 
And  all  my  understanding  fails  in  me; 
Some  secret  pang  my  patience  has  destroyed, 

1  am  distraught  in  this  fair  world  of  thine, 
My  fettered  heart  is  struggling  in  a  snare. 
And  all  my  soul  is  manacled  in  woe. 

And  through  the  dolor  of  my  dazzled  sight, 
I  am  as  faint  as  is  the  new-born  moon. 
Some  power,  as  in  the  chase,  my  spirit  hunts ; 
E'en  now  the  gleaming  knife  is  at  my  heart. 
For,  oh !  the  beauty  of  thy  cheek  has  cast 
Fire  in  the  dreary  dwelling  of  my  mind ; 
And  all  the  perilous  lustre  of  thine  eye. 
Like  a  sharp  sword,  is  levelled  against  me. 
My  suffering  has  cleft  my  heart  in  twain, 
And  in  dire  desolation  ruined  me. 
I  melt  to  nothing  in  the  grief  of  love. 
And  plunge  deep  buried  in  a  flood  of  woe; 
For  I  am  overcome  with  passion's  wound. 
My  inmost  being  heaves  in  pain  and  blood ; 
I  am  consumed,  and  absence  tortures  me. 
And  like  a  mote  I  hover  in  desire. 
My  love  pain  burns  me  like  a  heated  iron, 
My  eye  is  like  a  beaker  filled  with  wine ; 
Oh,  help  me,  for  endurance  can  no  more ; 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  279 

Oh,  spare  me  further  buffets  of  disdain. 

My  strength  is  all  unequal  to  this  load, 

And  all  my  feebleness  is  free  from  guilt. 

O  slender  Rose,  and  wilt  thou  that  thy  bird 

Should  still  descant  of  absence  and  neglect 

With  thorn-pierced  bosom  ever  hid  from  thee? 

Now  beauty  in  the  lightest  slumber  lies, 

And  deeper  sorrow  checks  my  prayers  to  thee. 

O  Rose,  beware  thou  of  the  gale  of  sighs, 

For,  like  the  morning  wind,  it  mars  the  Rose. 

On  this  distracted  heart  some  pity  take. 

Be  merciful  and  heal  me  of  my  pain." 

So  sang  the  silver-throated  nightingale. 

So  sang  he,  with  his  soul  aflame  in  love. 

But  there  was  naught  that  noted  or  allayed 

His  pain,  and  tears  were  still  his  sole  relief. 

No  one  gave  heed  to  his  sad  cantilene, 

And  no  one  knew  the  meaning  of  his  woe. 

To  him  the  world  in  utter  darkness  lay, 

He  was  encompassed  by  a  trackless  maze, 

On  one  side  were  the  shadows  of  the  night, 

And  on  the  other  was  the  force  of  fate. 

The  world  in  dreariness  and  sorrow  lay, 

The  very  stars  were  dimmed  in  slumber  deep, 

And  darkness  would  not  yield  before  the  light. 

And  not  a  sign  of  morn  was  on  the  hills. 

And  long  and  lonesome  were  those  darkling  hours 

Of  agony,  while  refuge  there  was  none. 


XX 

The  Sleepless  Nightingale  is  Tormented  in  the  Dark 
Night,  and  Mourns  Aloud 

While  he  was  thus  oppressed  with  many  a  woe. 
Thus  he  addressed  his  chanson  to  the  night : 
*'  What  means,  O  night,  this  dark  and  murkiness, 
Which  so  torments  with  terror  every  soul? 
Is  it  from  absence  from  the  loved  one  come, 
That  now  the  moon  withholds  her  welcome  beam? 


28o  FASLI 

Is  all  the  radiance  of  the  sunlight  quenched? 

And  all  the  circling  Pleiads  put  to  flight? 

Has  my  lament  extinguished  Saturn's  ray, 

So  that  his  rings  no  longer  flash  their  beams? 

Has  Jupiter  his  happy  seat  forsaken 

Because  of  the  unhappiness  of  earth? 

Is  it  that  Mars  has  fallen  by  the  sword, 

That  therefore  all  the  heavens  are  clothed  in  black? 

Why  does  the  sun  refuse  to  show  his  face? 

Is  he,  the  fount  of  light,  to  darkness  turned? 

Has  Anahid,  in  hopeless  apathy. 

Flung  to  the  ground  her  lute  of  poesy  ? 

Is  Mercury,  heaven's  letter-writer,  grown 

Black  as  the  ink  that  dries  upon  his  pen? 

Why  does  the  world  this  face  of  darkness  wear? 

Is  it  that  my  lament  has  brought  it  gloom? 

Why  is  it  morning  fails  to  show  itself? 

Surely  my  chanson  has  not  held  it  back. 

Why  is  the  night  so  slow  in  its  advance? 

Is  it  that  day  brings  absence  from  my  love  ? 

Surely  the  day  of  resurrection  dawns, 

When  all  the  stars  fall  down  upon  the  earth ! 

Who  has  thus  closed  the  window  of  the  moon? 

And  broken  the  golden  lampstand  of  the  sun? 

Is  it  the  operation  of  my  sighs 

That  tinges  all  the  earth  with  dismal  hues? 

And  has  the  dart  of  light  forsaken  heaven  ? 

And  does  the  sky  wear  mourning  for  my  woe? 

The  constellated  eagle  stops  his  flight. 

Or  has  he  flitted  to  the  realms  of  gloom  ? 

Has  Vega  fallen,  with  a  broken  heart, 

Down  from  her  pinnacle  of  happiness  ?  " 

When  he  had  uttered  loud  this  lone  complaint. 

He  with  his  spirit  thus  soliloquized : 

"  Why  is  it  that  the  ruler  of  the  world 

Has  set  me  in  this  valley  of  distress? 

For  neither  to  my  mother  nor  my  sire 

Have  I  been  aught  but  minister  of  pain. 

Oh,  better  were  it  I  had  ne'er  been  born. 

And  all  my  blood  had  flowed  away  like  milk! 


THE   ROSE    AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  281 

So  that,  before  I  closed  my  eyes  in  sleep, 

Death's  sword  had  doomed  me  to  forgetfulness. 

Or  while  I  yet  in  cradle  bands  reposed. 

My  life  had  early  passed  away  from  me. 

Oh,  that  the  mother's  milk  that  wet  my  lips 

Had  turned  to  poison  in  that  very  hour ! 

Oh,  that  an  arrow  swift  had  struck  my  heart, 

And  parted  at  a  stroke  the  thread  of  life  1 

Oh,  that  some  poison-fanged  and  treacherous  snake 

Had  bitten  me  to  death  upon  my  bed ! 

Oh,  that  some  vulture  fierce  had  carried  me 

To  its  lone  eyrie  in  the  heights  of  Kaf ! 

And  when  the  soft  hand  of  a  mother  dear 

Arrayed  her  infant  in  the  richest  robes, 

Oh,  that  some  sturdy  robber  of  the  road, 

For  love  of  all  my  gold  and  finery, 

Had  without  pity  drawn  his  rapier  keen 

And  from  my  shoulders  struck  my  head  to  earth ! 

Why  does  the  world  refrain  from  setting  me, 

As  its  great  foe,  'mid  perils  and  mishaps? 

Why  is  it  this  calamity  of  woe 

Has  failed  to  cleave  my  bosom  unawares  ?  " 

As  thus  he  sang  aloud  his  dolorous  lay. 

The  moon  came  out  upon  the  clearing  sky, 

And  when  he  looked  on  heaven's  expanded  field. 

Thus  he  addressed  the  goddess  of  the  night. 


XXI 

The  Nightingale  in  His  Amorous  Pain  Anxiously 
Addresses  the  Radiant  Moon 

He  sang  in  agony,  "  O  radiant  moon. 
That  fillest  all  the  welkin  with  thy  light. 
Dost  thou  in  some  bright  sun  thy  mansion  find, 
Whence  thou  derivest  thine  enraptured  beam? 
And  hast  thou  thence  a  borrowed  splendor  gained, 
With  which  to  fill  the  world  thou  gazest  on? 
The  darkness  that  is  dense  and  hideous 
Turns  at  thy  coming  into  splendor  clear. 


282  FASLI 

Leave  me  not  comfortless  this  whole  night  long, 

But  guide  me  to  my  darling's  wakeful  bower. 

To  me,  a  wanderer  on  the  rough  highway. 

Be  guide  and  leader  on  a  path  direct. 

And,  when  thou  movest  in  thine  orbit  blest, 

Let  thy  light  flow  like  some  enchanting  lay. 

Thou  art  indeed  the  glowing  sun  of  night, 

Flinging  o'er  heaven  the  light  flecks  of  thy  face. 

Oh,  cast  thy  radiance  on  this  friend  of  thine. 

Who  wanders  with  no  sunshine  in  his  life. 

Be  to  the  poor,  who  consolation  need. 

The  balm  for  every  wound  'neath  which  they  faint. 

One  glance  of  thine  has  power  to  dissipate 

The  fevered  pangs  of  sufferance  in  the  poor. 

Needy  and  friendless  and  of  all  forlorn, 

Fit  object  he  of  thy  consoling  aid. 

And  since  his  sorrows  are  beyond  compare. 

And  with  no  changing  breath  he  bears  thee  love, 

And  since  his  love  to  thee  is  reckoned  crime. 

Do  thou  absolve  him  of  his  guiltiness. 

For  if  thou  turn  thee  from  a  beggar's  path. 

Before  the  people  thou  shalt  blush  with  shame. 

When  men  rebuke  him,  and  blot  out  his  name. 

Or  make  his  name  forgotten  by  his  kind. 

If  thou  at  last  become  averse  to  him. 

There  is  no  hope  of  pity  for  his  soul." 

While  the  poor  lover  thus  his  mourning  made, 

The  welkin  sparkled  with  the  glance  of  day. 


XXII 

The  Lovesick   Nightingale  Accosts   the   Risen   Morn- 
ing IN  A  Clear  and  Fitting  Manner 

"  O  light  of  morn,  that  beautifies  the  world, 

By  force  of  truth  and  of  sincerity, 

Thy  heart  is  lit  by  the  pure  light  of  truth. 

And  open  to  the  world  as  day  itself. 

Let  thy  pure  joy  illuminate  my  heart. 

Make  thyself  known  to  yonder  moon  of  heaven; 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  283 

'Tis  she  that  sheds  her  rays  upon  this  world, 
When  thou  hast  flashed  thy  beams  upon  her  disk ; 
Oh,  tear  away  this  veil  of  gloom  from  me, 
And  call  to  me  the  mistress  of  my  heart. 
Say  to  her :  "  Sore  is  yonder  poor  man's  heart ; 
He  journeys  o'er  the  world  with  silent  lips. 
To  this  poor  wanderer  in  the  way  of  love 
Must  thou  show  pity  and  compassion  due, 
For  want  has  torn  the  mantle  from  his  back, 
And  love  has  laid  him  prostrate  on  the  earth. 
He  sees  before  him  nothing  but  the  grave. 
And  never  turns  his  glance  aside  from  it. 
Oh,  do  not  tread  the  helpless  in  the  dust. 
Dam  up  the  flood  of  wrath  that  threatens  him ! 
When  this  poor  man  the  needed  morsel  wants. 
The  beggar  still  can  boast  a  wallet  full. 
He  has  nor  wealth  nor  influence,  my  queen. 
Yet  lacks  he  not  accomplishment,  my  queen; 
And  gold  and  silver  failing,  '  tis  enough 
To  see  thy  tears  and  sympathetic  glance. 
Be  gentle,  then,  to  this  accomplished  man, 
And  give  assistance  to  a  bard  inspired. 
The  prince  who  acts  with  kindness  to  the  poor 
Proves  by  his  deeds  his  loving  gentleness." 
While  in  this  wise  the  nightingale  discoursed. 
The  sun  stood  beaming  in  the  arch  of  heaven. 
And  as  he  marked  it,  from  the  moon  he  turned 
And  fixed  his  contemplation  on  the  sun. 


XXHI 

The  Desponding  Nightingale  Addresses  the  World- 
adorning  Sun,  While  His  Inmost  Heart  Glows 
With  Ardent  Desire 

He  said :  "  O  lord  of  light  in  heaven  above. 
Thou  art  the  lightener  of  the  angel  realm, 
Thy  lustre  fills  with  radiance  all  the  world, 
And  reaches  to  the  garden  of  the  Rose. 
'Tis  by  thy  diligence  that  all  things  are, 


284  FASLI 

And  are  from  elemental  atoms  formed. 
Thou  art  the  eye  and  lamp  of  all  the  world, 
Light  to  men's  sight,  and  lustre  to  the  stars. 
Unless  the  moon  derived  her  light  from  thee, 
She  were  in  darkness  to  the  judgment  day; 
And  but  that  thou  dost  gaze  upon  the  morn. 
The  gloom  of  night  would  never  leave  the  east. 
Thou  art  indeed  the  morning  gate  of  love, 
Spreading  thy  light  in  footprints  of  the  morn; 
Oh,  let  my  ardent  passion  shine  on  her. 
And  fall  with  suppliant  words  before  her  gate. 
Go  humbly  to  the  place  where  she  abides, 
And  fling  thyself  before  her  fairy  feet. 
Oh,  speak  to  yonder  moon  about  my  love, 
And  say  to  her.  Fair  regent  of  the  heavens, 
For  thy  great  beauty  lies  thy  lover  low. 
And  like  a  shadow  trodden  in  the  dust. 
For  him  there  is  no  daylight  in  the  world. 
So  sorely  absence  keeps  him  prisoner. 
The  night  of  absence  wounds  him  to  the  quick, 
Oh,  give  him  but  a  glimpse  of  thy  fair  face. 
Oh,  change  the  loneliness  of  one  long  night 
For  the  delightsomeness  of  cheerful  day. 
Let  him,  who  is  with  passion  deep  consumed, 
Look  with  his  longing  eye  upon  his  love. 
This  wretched  one  is  prisoner  of  thine. 
Have  pity  on  the  wandering  devotee. 
Suffering  and  despite  is  his  only  wealth, 
And  he  is  despicable  all  for  thee. 
He  stands  unnoticed  in  the  world's  wide  house. 
Stretch  out  thy  hand  to  welcome  the  despised; 
The  window-sill  and  threshold  of  thy  house. 
Shall  then  his  Sacred  Stone  and  Mecca  be. 
He  watches  through  the  night  till  morn  arise. 
And  speaks  aloud  thy  name  in  his  distress. 
Early  and  late  he  thinks  alone  of  thee ; 
Early  and  late  his  heart  is  set  on  thee. 
His  prayers  he  utters  in  thine  ear  alone, 
He  turns  to  thee  alone  his  anxious  eye. 
Thou  art  his  creed,  all  others  he  forswears ; 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  285 

Thou  art  the  sect  and  ritual  that  he  loves. 
The  creed  that  he  professes  is  thy  love. 
Offend  not,  then,  the  Mussulman's  belief. 
Grant,  queen,  the  prayer  of  thy  fond  devotee, 
O  Queen,  propitious  be  to  his  desire." 
'Twas  thus  he  spake  aloud  his  inmost  thought. 
But  vain  was  all  his  pleading  and  his  pain. 
And  so  he  turned  him  from  the  sun  and  moon, 
Like  Abraham,  and  made  appeal  to  God. 


XXIV 

The  Nightingale,  in  His  Distress,  Turns  From  Sun  and 
Moon  and  Addresses  a  Prayer  to  God 

He  turned  to  the  Creator  with  his  prayer 

Of  pain,  to  Wisdom  and  Omniscience, 

And  cried :  "  O  God,  who  art  the  Lord  of  all, 

Who  easest  sorrow,  and  who  hearest  prayer. 

Thou  knowest  the  hidden  secrets  of  the  world. 

For  thou  art  Ruler  both  of  heaven  and  earth. 

Thou  knowest  well  the  plight  in  which  I  lie ; 

And  that  my  burden  ever  greater  grows ; 

No  human  mind  can  tell  what  I  have  borne, 

How  I  am  bowed  beneath  a  load  of  shame; 

How  I  have  been  the  slave  of  luckless  woe, 

And  have  succumbed  to  the  sharp  stroke  of  grief. 

I  burn  in  passion's  longing  and  distress, 

But  thy  grace  reigns  in  blest  tranquillity; 

I  cannot  ope  my  heart  to  anyone, 

For  utterance  crushes  me,  and  wearies  me; 

For  I  am  friendless  in  a  stranger's  house. 

Hopeless  in  absence  from  my  well-beloved. 

Nothing  is  constant  to  me,  saving  grief 

And  obloquy.    Was  ever  such  a  lot? 

And  no  one  sorrows  over  my  distress. 

My  eye  alone  distils  these  pearly  tears ; 

No  friend  is  partner  of  my  obloquy. 

My  gloom  of  sighs  involves  myself  alone. 

No  one  has  sympathy  with  my  dread  lot, 


286  FASLI 

Nor  heeds  the  wounds  upon  my  bleeding  breast. 

If  I  should  die,  there  would  no  mourners  be, 

Excepting  this  impassioned  heart  of  mine. 

I  tread  the  valley  of  astonishment, 

O  God,  when  shall  I  reach  the  house  of  joy? 

Oh,  by  this  heart,  that  runs  to  thee  for  help. 

By  the  deep  sighs  that  burn  me  as  they  rise, 

By  the  loud  beatings  of  my  whispering  heart, 

By  the  beloved  Rose  in  which  I  trust. 

By  all  the  beauty  of  some  distant  scene, 

By  all  the  rapture  of  heroic  love. 

By  the  high  honor  of  my  well-beloved, 

By  the  lorn  lot  of  him  who  loveth  her, 

By  the  black  weeds  that  my  devotion  speak. 

And  by  the  tears  that  fill  my  eyes  like  blood. 

By  the  misfortune  and  the  wrath  I  feel. 

By  him  who  separates  me  from  my  love. 

Yea,  by  the  honeyed  sweetness  of  her  lips. 

And  by  my  own  sincerity  of  soul, 

By  the  unhappiness  of  him  who  loves, 

And  by  his  unstained  rectitude  of  heart. 

By  that  which  to  the  lover  causes  woe. 

And  by  the  night-long  pain  in  which  he  pines, 

By  all  the  light  that  glorifies  the  moon. 

By  all  the  radiance  of  this  world  of  ours, 

By  daylight  and  the  pomp  of  noonday  suns, 

By  the  thick  darkness  of  the  midnight  hour. 

By  earth  below,  and  by  the  heavens  above, 

And  by  the  hustling  crowd  on  judgment  day, 

By  Adam's  early  days  of  innocence, 

By  him  who  is  the  lord  of  purity, 

By  Seth,  by  Noah,  and  by  Abraham, 

By  Gabriel,  who  brought  the  message  down. 

By  Moses,  who  as  prince  and  preacher  spoke, 

By  Jesus  and  the  light  that  Mary  shed. 

By  all  the  love  that  great  Mahomet  won, 

By  his  forbearance  and  his  majesty. 

By  his  young  people  and  his  dwelling-place, 

By  his  great  might  that  nothing  could  subdue; 

By  the  prevailing  virtue  of  God's  name 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  287 

And  by  his  nature's  unity  divine, 
Consume  me  not  with  separation's  flame. 
Give  me  enjoyment's  happiness  supreme; 
Oh,  softly  warm  her  frozen  heart  for  me, 
And  soften  it  with  gentlest  influence ; 
Pour  out  thy  balm  of  pity  in  her  heart, 
That  so  my  pain  at  last  may  be  allayed. 


XXV 

The  Beauteous  Rose  Hears  the  Voice  of  the  Nightin- 
gale, AND  While  She  Feels  an  Inward  Delight  in 
IT,  She  Puts  on  an  Air  of  Reserve  and  Disdain 

And  while  the  Nightingale  his  lay  prolongs. 
And  offers  up  his  orisons  to  God, 
The  Rose  in  slumber  suddenly  perceived 
A  wondrous  strain  of  music  in  the  air ; 
Upon  her  listening  ear  there  stole  a  strain 
Which  gave  the  joy  of  passion  to  her  heart. 
And  as  she  heard  the  amorous  Nightingale 
She  asked:  "What  sound  of  music  do  I  hear? 
How  does  the  spirit  of  life  pervade  the  song! 
Who  is  it  that  is  uttering  the  lay? 
Ah,  what  a  songster,  a  musician,  he! 
A  songster  and  a  hierophant  in  one. 
Has  Venus  come  from  heaven  to  visit  us. 
And  pour  such  floods  of  melody  on  earth  ?  " 
And  then  that  she  might  hear  the  truth  aright, 
She  called  Narcissus  to  investigate. 
And  soon  as  he  appeared  at  her  behest. 
She  said,  "  O  thou,  our  circle's  watchful  eye, 
I  heard  but  now  a  burst  of  music  rare. 
Who  is  it  that  can  boast  such  gift  of  song? 
The  soul  so  fondly  feeds  upon  that  sound. 
That  it  is  rapt  in  utter  ecstasy. 
Go  forth  and  seek  and  hither  bring  me  word. 
What  craftsman  is  it  that  so  sweetly  sings? 
Did  he  descend  from  heaven,  like  the  dew? 
Or  did  he  spring,  like  tulip,  from  the  mead? 


288  FASLI 

Go,  question  make,  and  learn  whence  came  the  sound. 

And  what  the  singer's  name  and  place  of  birth. 

Dear  friend",  inquiries  strict  and  searching  make, 

And  bring  to  me  the  answer  that  you  find." 

Then  said  Narcissus :  "  'Tis  with  vast  delight, 

I  go  to  learn  what  you  have  asked  of  me; 

So  soon  as  I  his  countenance  behold 

I  shall  his  character  at  once  discern." 

So  at  that  very  hour  Narcissus  went. 

To  fetch  her  information  of  the  bird. 

He  found  at  last  the  outcast  miserable, 

That  with  the  Cypress  tree  stood  hand  in  hand, 

And  night  and  day  his  dolorous  chanson  poured, 

And  told  his  ardent  passion  to  the  world. 

He  questioned  graciously  the  Cypress  tree, 

And  learned  the  true  condition  of  the  bird. 

He  learned  the  Nightingale  was  amorous. 

And  deeply  troubled  with  the  pang  of  love. 

And  to  the  Rose  returning,  told  her  all — 

His  name,  and  in  what  mournful  plight  he  lay. 

He  was  a  wretch,  he  said,  of  reason  reft. 

Consumed  forever  with  the  flame  of  love. 

An  exile,  whom  his  passion  had  inspired 

To  rove  in  distant  land  from  shore  to  shore. 

He  now  had  come  at  last  upon  his  way 

To  lay  his  heart  submissive  at  her  feet. 

A  creature  full  of  virtuous  qualities. 

And  all  accomplished  in  the  tuneful  art. 

Soon  as  the  Rose  had  heard  this  narrative. 

Her  heart  was  filled  with  secret  joyfulness. 

And  as  her  beauty  kindled  with  desire. 

Her  gracious  charm  was  clouded  o'er  with  wrath. 

Then  spoke  she:  "Wherefore  hies  the  beggar  here? 

He  stuns  my  ear  with  his  unchecked  lament. 

When  will  this  shameless  arrogance  have  end. 

Which  clamors  like  a  tocsin  through  the  night? 

What  will  his  daring  lead  him  next  to  do? 

Perchance  he  wishes  to  abide  with  us. 

What  is  the  cause  for  all  this  loud  lament  ? 

Who  is  it  with  a  sword  thrust  draws  his  blood? 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  289 

What  bird  does  this  poor  wanderer  call  himself? 
I  do  not  know  the  language  that  he  speaks. 
His  rhapsody  but  stuns  my  ear  with  pain, 
And  yet  the  song  he  sings  is  kind  to  me. 
What  does  the  bird  of  evil  fortune  here? 
There  is  no  room  with  us  for  such  a  fowl. 
Who  is  the  shameless  beggar  that  is  come 
To  take  at  night  a  post  so  near  the  queen  ? 
Since  he  arrived  among  us  with  his  din 
My  head  is  giddy  and  my  sense  is  gone. 
He  hinders  me  from  slumber  all  the  night, 
Now  tell  me  how  this  clamor  to  chastise. 
Why  does  he  call  upon  me  day  and  night, 
Reckons  he  not  his  passion's  hopelessness? 
Surely  this  fool  and  beggar  does  not  hope 
In  the  rose  garden  to  approach  the  Rose  ? 
Love  has  not  paled  his  cheek ;  unheated  iron 
Is  not  more  dark  than  are  those  cheeks  of  his. 
Bid  him  begone,  and  leave  our  flowery  home, 
Nor  hope  to  cast  his  amorous  eyes  on  me. 
Bid  him  o'ercome  this  passionate  desire, 
No  further  sing  in  vain  his  tale  of  love. 
The  wanderer  may  not  in  his  mood  presume 
To  approach  from  far  the  empress  of  the  world. 


XXVI 

The  Prudent  Narcissus  Remonstrates  With  the  Garru- 
lous Nightingale 

As  the  world's  bride  these  words  of  anger  spake. 
Narcissus  went  the  Bulbul  to  rebuke, 
And  said :  "  What  means  this  elegy  of  woe  ? 
How  is  it  thou  hast  fallen  on  lot  so  black? 
What  wit,  what  manners,  canst  thou  boast  to  have 
Who  weepest  in  this  paradise  of  heaven? 
Thou,  in  the  lap  of  misery  born  and  bred, 
Has  added  shamelessness  to  suffering. 
Thy  utterances  have  wakened  up  the  flowers, 
And  robbed  of  sleep  the  eyelids  of  our  queen. 
19 


290 


FASLI 

How  İS  it  fitting  that  a  beggar-man, 

Should  join  a  princess  in  delight  of  love? 

Our  Princess  Rose  is  from  her  chamber  come, 

And  filled  with  mighty  anger  at  thy  words. 

She  says :  '  The  varlet  must  bethink  himself, 

And  ne'er  again  so  boldly  speak  my  name. 

He  has  his  secret  to  the  world  proclaimed, 

And  made  my  name  a  byword  among  men. 

My  name,  through  him,  all  babbling  tongues  shall  speak, 

Who  makes  me  figure  as  his  night-long  prize: 

Now  let  him  check  the  clamor  of  his  song, 

Or  I  will  meet  him  with  avenging  wrath. 

Let  him  consort  with  those  who  share  his  lot. 

Else  will  my  anger  fall  upon  his  head. 

My  name  no  longer  on  his  lips  be  found. 

And  from  his  memory  let  my  image  fade. 

For  now  he  is  arousing  naught  but  wrath, 

And  evil  will  befall  him  at  the  last.'  " 

'Twas  thus  Narcissus  freely  spoke  to  him 

And  with  a  sigh  the  Nightingale  replied ; 

And,  while  he  dared  no  longer  sing  aloud. 

His  silent  sighs  were  rising  in  his  heart. 

He  sickened  under  separation's  pang. 

He  stood  aghast,  amazed,  and  faint  in  heart; 

And  now  Narcissus  backward  took  his  way, 

And  left  him  lying  like  a  lifeless  clod. 

His  heart  was  raging  with  a  furious  heat. 

Wrapt  in  the  flaming  whirlpool  of  its  pangs. 

The  pain  of  separation  made  him  dumb; 

And  all  unconscious  to  the  ground  he  fell ; 

Long  time  he  lay  as  he  were  drunk  with  wine. 

As  if  his  love  were  quenched  in  longings  vain. 

At  last  his  senses  came  again  to  him. 

As  he  looked  forth,  his  eyes  were  drowned  in  tears. 

He  then  resolves  he  will  renew  his  lay. 

If  only  he  be  equal  to  the  task. 

So  all  the  day  in  solitude  he  sighs. 

And  patiently  endures  his  hapless  plight. 

Yet  keeps  he  silent  and  no  longer  sings, 

And  no  man  knows  the  suffering  he  endured. 


i 

1 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE 


291 


XXVII 

The  East  Wind  Meets  the  Wandering  Nightingale  and 
Brings  Him  Tidings  From  the  Tender  Rose 

One  balmy  morning  when  the  night  had  fled 

And  made  surrender  to  the  light  of  day. 

When  buds  had  oped  their  eyelids  once  again, 

And  nodded  in  the  wind  o'er  all  the  earth, 

The  Nightingale  in  utter  misery  sat, 

A  wretched  outcast  in  a  cheerless  world. 

His  song  had  but  increased  his  pang  of  woe, 

And  now  his  silence  tortured  him  the  more. 

And  suddenly  the  East  Wind  comes  to  him, 

The  East  Wind,  nourisher  of  nature's  life ; 

As  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  Nightingale, 

Within  his  mind  a  pang  of  pity  smote, 

And  hand  in  hand  with  him  the  Cypress  moved. 

He  found  no  balm  to  heal  the  bird  of  woe. 

The  bird,  deep  stabbed  by  separation's  blade. 

For  his  friend's  fate  he  could  not  find  escape. 

Nor  would  he  trample  on  the  pining  wretch, 

Whose  life  seemed  feeble  as  a  fleeting  shade. 

Then  came  he  near  and  gracious  greeted  him, 

The  bird  made  answer  with  a  burst  of  sighs. 

"  Welcome,  good  sir,"  the  East  Wind  said  to  him, 

"  What  breeze  has  brought  thee  to  a  haven  here  ? 

Why  is  it  that  thou  pinest  thus  in  song? 

Does  absence  from  thy  loved  one  cause  thy  woe? 

How  wasted  and  how  lean  thy  countenance! 

Thou  art  forespent  by  all  thy  sufferings ; 

Thine  eyes  are  swimming  in  the  tears  of  grief. 

Thy  heart  is  bleeding  from  its  passion's  pain. 

What  can  have  thus  disturbed  thy  being's  depth  ? 

Thank  God,  that  thou  art  now  before  a  friend ! 

Thou  in  the  Rose's  palace  dwellest  now, 

Why  art  thou  not  as  happy  as  the  Rose? 

Since  thou  art  not  defrauded  of  thy  hope. 


292  FASLI 

Good  fortune  surely  must  have  smiled  on  thee. 

Here  thou  art  dwelling  in  a  lonesome  realm, 

Why  shouldst  thou  manifest  such  grief  and  woe? 

What  pleasure  canst  thou  find  in  dolorous  song, 

Oh,  say,  poor  wretch,  what  pleasure  canst  thou  find  ? 

The  lean-faced  bird  made  answer  with  a  sigh, 

And  said :  ''  O  friend,  companion  of  my  grief, 

Though  in  the  rose  garden  I  now  abide, 

I  am  no  less  a  singer  of  laments. 

For  still  the  door  that  leads  to  her  I  love 

Is  shut  upon  me,  as  thou  well  canst  see. 

Still  like  a  pilgrim  I  am  stranger  here. 

And  still  my  Mecca's  light  is  closed  to  me. 

The  knife  of  grief  is  fixed  within  my  breast, 

And  absence  from  my  love  has  laid  me  low ; 

Absence  has  robbed  me  of  the  food  of  life, 

Absence  has  cast  a  gloom  o'er  my  delight. 

Still  in  a  friend  I  see  nor  trust  nor  stay, 

And  a  friend's  presence  still  new  torture  gives. 

Though  outwardly  I  am  in  good  estate. 

Still  am  I  distant  from  my  dear  delight. 

I  cannot  yet  enjoy  my  best  beloved. 

And  patient  resolution  fails  in  me. 

I  see  no  sunlight  in  whose  rays  to  trust ; 

But  myriad  griefs  and  sorrows  meet  my  gaze. 

O'er  my  distress  all  human  pity  sleeps 

And  my  great  heap  of  anguish  mounts  to  heaven. 

And  no  one  pleads  my  cause  before  my  love. 

That  she  should  show  compassion  on  my  plight. 

Thus  by  my  ardent  passion  worn  away, 

By  night  and  day  I  linger  in  distress. 

Oh,  if  that  graceful  creature  knew  of  me, 

She  would  show  less  of  cruelty  to  me. 

Then  Pity's  face  would  stand  before  her  eyes. 

She  would  not  sacrifice  my  life  to  pain. 

Oh,  help  me,  thou  who  art  my  only  hope. 

Take  by  the  hand  and  guide  the  fallen  one ; 

Tell  her  how  fares  this  miserable  wight 

And  make  me  pledged  to  show  thee  gratitude. 

Oh,  give  her  knowledge  of  my  pining  pangs. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  293 

And  of  the  many  sufferings  I  endure, 

Let  fires  of  ardent  longing  warm  thy  tongue, 

So  that  her  heart  be  filled  with  ruth  for  me." 


XXVIII 

The  Soul-nurturing  East  Wind  Takes  Knowledge  of 
THE  Nightingale  and  Sees  Traces  of  Pity  in  the 
Beauteous  Rose 

Then  said  the  East  Wind  that  gives  courage  new : 

"  Torment  thyself  no  more,  unhappy  one, 

Thy  sadness  and  thy  mourning  pierce  my  heart ; 

And  I  am  messenger  from  yonder  queen ; 

I  will  refuse  thee  nothing  in  my  power. 

And  I  will  work  for  thee  with  all  my  might. 

I  will  thy  suft'erings  relate  to  her, 

And  bear  her  message  how  it  fares  with  thee. 

The  lofty  dame  must  take  some  note  of  thee ; 

I  will  support  thy  cause  as  I  have  strength. 

Perchance  my  word  will  influence  her  mind 

And  cause  her  to  compassionate  thy  lot. 

Take  courage !  "    So  he  spake  and  forth  he  went, 

Repairing  to  the  palace  of  the  Rose. 

Right  eagerly  he  hastened  to  the  Rose 

And  threw  himself  before  her  on  the  ground. 

And  said :  "  O  lofty  sun  of  loveliness, 

O  moon,  O  heaven  o'erflowing  with  delights. 

May  God  thy  gracious  beauty  still  increase, 

And  give  fulfilment  to  thy  every  wish! 

May  he  thy  honor  never  bring  to  blight. 

And  with  full  many  a  year  thy  life  prolong! 

A  stranger  poor,  no  traitor,  but  true  man, 

A  suitor  in  the  passion  of  his  mind, 

Is  come  to  thee  as  if  he  were  thy  slave. 

For  he  has  fallen  deep  in  love  with  thee ; 

The  breath  of  love  which  burns  him  to  the  heart 

For  him  life's  goblet  sweet  with  poison  taints. 

He  is  thy  very  slave  in  heart  and  soul. 


294 


FASLI 

Devoted  to  thee  through  all  pain  and  want ; 

In  thy  disdain  he  finds  his  sustenance, 

And  in  the  pain  thou  givest  his  delight. 

He  mourns  night  long  complaining  to  the  world, 

How  he  is  tortured  by  his  love  for  thee, 

Helpless  by  day,  enfeebled,  and  unnerved. 

He  passes  drunk  with  grief,  through  town  and  plain ;  j 

The  hand  of  love  represses  now  his  song,  I 

The  bolt  of  sorrow  now  has  laid  him  low. 

From  song  to  song  he  speeds  along  in  love, 

Weak  as  the  new  moon  in  the  light  of  day, 

He  loves  thy  pity  and  thy  graciousness. 

Still  freshly  hurrying  on  the  path  of  love.  j 

Oh,  that  thou  wouldst,  bright  sun  of  loveliness,  1 

Show  to  him  all  the  glories  of  thy  grace! 

Since  only  smile  of  thine  can  make  him  rich. 

And  cause  the  beggar-man  to  reign  a  king. 

Does  the  tall  cedar  droop  from  weariness,  ; 

From  shadowing  the  soil  beneath  it  spread? 

And  must  the  sun  with  lessened  radiance  beam, 

From  shining  in  the  beggar's  lowly  hut? 

Does  loftiness  its  dignity  forego 

When  Solomon  converses  with  a  fool? 

The  watery  stream  that  vivifies  the  world 

Is  ever  in  its  current  downward  turned. 

Think  pitifully  on  his  valiant  life. 

Whose  spirit  ever  was  to  goodness  given. 

Now  is  the  poor  down  stricken  to  the  earth, 

Oh,  let  him  find  his  rescuer  in  thee !  " 

The  Rose  replied,  when  she  had  heard  his  speech, 

"  Go  to  this  beggar-man,  this  tempest  tost 

And  tell  him,  since  he  loves  so  ardently, 

And  swears  himself  so  ardently  my  slave. 

My  grace  he  must  a  little  longer  wait 

And  patient  in  his  constancy  abide. 

Suffer  he  must  till  healing  be  in  train, 

For  love  to  any  man  is  smart  enough. 

Love  is  by  absence  ofttimes  perfected ; 

And  ofttimes  by  fruition  brought  to  naught. 

He  who  would  end  the  sufferance  of  love 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  295 

Must  first  the  rule  of  selfishness  forswear. 

The  lover  has  no  will  to  please  himself ; 

His  will  he  yields  in  all  to  the  beloved. 

And  if  the  well-beloved  for  absence  wish, 

How  can  he  in  fruition's  flame  be  warmed? 

And  if  she  wishes  to  remain  far  off, 

How  is  this  possible  if  he  be  near? 

When  he  who  loves  puts  pleasure  before  all, 

His  beauteous  flame  desires  him  to  depart. 

Can  anyone  whose  love  is  pure  and  high 

For  any  time  abide  at  peace  in  it 

While  he  is  thinking  only  of  himself 

And  hurts  his  well-beloved  through  selfishness, 

So  that  if  he  but  graze  her  sandal's  tip 

She  in  hot  anger  turns  away  from  him? 

For  wounds  are  but  the  ornaments  of  love. 

And  all  the  rest  is  passion  dissolute." 

Hearing  these  words,  the  morning  wind  in  haste 

Departed  to  the  Nightingale,  who  mourned. 

For  when  he  heard  the  message  of  the  Rose 

His  self-control  and  understanding  fled. 

Straight  he  began  to  cry  aloud  for  grief. 

And  beat  the  bushes  of  the  rose  garden. 

Sad  song  and  sighing  in  his  bosom  raged. 

As  passion  in  the  glades  of  Gülistan. 

The  day  and  night  were  all  the  same  to  him, 

For  in  love's  frenzy  lay  he  night  and  day. 


XXIX 

Description  of  the  Morning  and  of  the  Colloquy  of  the 
Lovely  Rose  With  Her  Nobles  and  Chief  Men 

Upon  a  morning  when  the  rising  sun 

His  jewelled  cup  had  taken  in  his  hand, 

And  heaven's  arch  shone  with  passionate  desire, 

And  dawn  was  like  the  glow  of  ruddy  wine, 

And  morning,  sipping  at  the  golden  cup, 

Like  to  some  wild  disordered  reveller  seemed, 


296  FASLI 

The  Rose,  who  saw  the  temper  of  the  day, 

That  morning  was  a  bright  and  lovely  thing. 

And  all  the  landscape  round  with  passion  burned. 

And  morning's  glory  seemed  with  dalliance  gay, 

Felt  a  desire  within  her  flowery  grove 

For  high  enjoyment  in  a  merry  feast. 

Therefore  she  order  gave  that  on  the  lawn 

A  throne  of  verdure  should  be  raised  for  her, 

And  that  the  sweet  and  placid  morning  dew 

Should  fill  the  Tulip's  goblet  with  her  wine. 

The  dwellers  in  the  grove  acceptance  gave 

And  hastened  to  obey  the  queen's  command. 

And  in  accordance  with  her  high  behest. 

The  flame  of  revelry  was  kindled  round. 

The  Rose  herself  presided  o'er  the  rout, 

And  at  her  feet  the  faithful  Cypress  stood, 

And  all  the  guests  regaled  themselves  on  dew. 

And  Tulip  lackeys  filled  each  crystal  bowl. 

And  as  Narcissus  took  the  goblet  up 

A  wave  of  ardent  longing  swept  the  throng. 

The  Hyacinth  unbound  her  waving  hair, 

The  Musk  breathed  out  her  tribute  to  the  feast. 

The  lilies  laughed  and  out  they  thrust  their  tongues. 

Waking  the  feast  with  silvery  melody. 

Dumb  with  astonishment  at  such  a  scene, 

The  wry-necked  violets  stood  and  blinked  their  eyes. 

The  mad  Brook  hurried  by  the  surging  crowd. 

With  shouts  re-echoing  the  noisy  rout. 

And  gushing  forth  with  impulse  of  desire 

The  joy  that  in  his  bosom  overflowed. 

The  Wind  blew  blandly  like  a  breath  from  God, 

And  never  stopped  upon  its  restless  course. 

His  touch  was  like  caresses  of  desire, 

His  murmur  an  enchantment  of  delight. 

So  at  full  flood  the  tide  voluptuous  flowed, 

The  revel's  din  was  echoed  through  the  world. 

They  drank  full  beakers  of  delight  that  day. 

And  hugging  tipplers  crowded  all  the  glade. 

The  flowers  drank  all  that  nectar  amorous, 

And  with  rent  garments  lay  inebriate. 


I 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  297 

The  tulips  seized  the  wineglass  every  one, 

Voluptuous  ecstasy  their  bosoms  filled. 

The  Cypress,  by  the  fumes  of  wind  inflamed, 

Begin  to  dance  and  sport  in  dalliance  gay, 

Not  even  the  wind  could  tell  which  way  he  ran. 

For  now  his  murmuring  tongue  with  drink  was  dumb. 

Two  draughts  the  violet  at  the  beaker  took, 

Then  bowed  his  head  in  drowsy  slumber  lost — 

The  rose  garden  was  all  in  ruin  laid, 

And  on  their  swords  the  lilies  threw  themselves. 

The  Nightingale,  as  fitted  lover  true, 

A  stranger  feeble,  a  tormented  one, 

Is  wholly  sunk  in  amorous  desire ; 

And  drunken  with  the  very  wine  of  love, 

As  from  the  thicket  he  beheld  the  feast. 

Like  wine  his  tears  of  bitter  anguish  flowed. 

Tears  were  his  wine,  his  eyes  the  goblet  bright. 

His  sorrow's  song  the  reed-pipe  of  the  dance, 

And  all  the  while  he  gave  himself  to  grief, 

Turning  aside  from  such  strange  festival. 

Then  he  began  to  sigh  and  make  lament 

And  utter  all  his  sorrows  to  the  world. 

His  very  form  was  fashioned  like  a  lute, 

From  which  is  stricken  note  by  note  the  strain. 

His  bosom  throbbed  like  some  sweet  sorrow  lute, 

His  voice  was  like  some  lute's  desponding  lay, 

He  fluted  his  love  anguish  in  the  crowd. 

As  if  his  heart  gave  voice  to  its  desire. 

He  sighed  and  sobbed  with  his  loud  "  Lack-a-day," 

And  burned  like  incense  in  some  shrine  of  love. 

And  while  the  Rose  in  pleasure's  throng  was  gay. 

Poor  Bulbul  pined  in  his  misfortune's  gloom. 

The  Rose  drank  deep  amid  her  favorites, 

Poor  Bulbul  languished  in  his  song  of  pain ; 

And  so  went  by  full  many  days  that  brought 

Joy  to  the  Rose  and  sorrow  to  the  bird. 


298  FASLI 


XXX 


The  Far-wandering  Nightingale  Finds  No  Healing  for 
His  Pain,  and  at  Last  Writes  a  Letter  to  Make 
Known  His  Plight 

For  a  long  time  bewailed  the  Nightingale 

His  agony  in  many  a  tender  trill, 

And  yet  the  Rose  came  never  into  view, 

And  never  saw  one  sparkle  of  the  truth. 

He  never  saw  her  in  his  view  appear, 

She  never  mentioned  with  her  voice  his  name. 

The  bird  continued  in  his  constancy, 

And  her  approach  was  ever  far  away. 

She  had  no  true  acquaintance  with  his  grief. 

Though  patience  still  was  torture  to  his  breast. 

Then  said  to  him  at  last  the  fool  of  love, 

"  Why  is  it  that  I  do  not  write  to  her  ? 

I  cannot  speak  to  others  my  lament, 

I  will  to  her  myself  my  plight  explain; 

I  will  the  sufferings  which  o'erflow  my  heart 

And  all  my  agony  recount  to  her. 

My  eyelashes  shall  serve  me  for  a  pen 

And  from  mine  eyes  I  will  my  ink  distil ; 

The  tears  which  drip  like  blood  beneath  my  lids 

Are  ink  enough  to  write  my  love  letter." 

With  pain  he  took  the  pen  into  his  hand 

And  wrote  his  letter  with  a  bleeding  heart. 

Praise  formed  the  exordium  of  this  love-letter, 

Praise  both  of  God  and  of  the  prophets  blest. 

Then  said  he :  "  O  beloved  of  my  heart, 

Thou  uncompassionate  of  those  who  love, 

Is  there  no  end  to  thy  prevailing  charm? 

Is  there  no  end  to  my  surpassing  pain? 

Is  thy  hard-heartedness  persistent  still? 

And  is  thy  love  enchantment  without  bound? 

Is  it  indeed  the  custom  of  the  fair 

That  their  great  beauty  should  be  pitiless? 

Oh,  leave  thine  hardness,  prayers  of  love  regard, 

Look  on  the  desolation  of  my  heart. 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  299 

If  lovely  things  were  ever  obdurate, 

Still  might  they  with  their  hardness  feel  desire; 

Let  not  this  soul  in  ardent  passion  faint, 

And  this  cleft  bosom  perish  in  its  fire. 

From  keen  desire  by  night  and  day  I  mourn, 

My  bosom  and  my  eyes  are  wrought  with  grief. 

The  sword  of  agony  has  pierced  me  through 

And  altered  quite  the  habit  of  my  mind, 

For  patience  I  no  longer  have  the  strength, 

Nor  can  I  longer  separation  bear. 

Oh,  pity  me,  mine  own,  for  I  am  weak, 

I  am  o'erwrought  and  without  strength  to-day. 

The  sword  of  separation  cleaves  my  breast 

And  tints  me  with  the  tulip's  ruddied  eye. 

My  tears  are  like  the  Oxus  of  mine  eyes, 

Pale  as  the  lime  the  color  of  my  cheeks. 

Have  pity  on  me  in  my  feebleness — 

My  strength  and  force  have  ebbed  away  from  me. 

Have  pity  on  me.     Patience  dies  in  me, 

The  sword  of  absence  penetrates  my  soul. 

No  longer  patience  can  endure  the  strain, 

And  on  thy  head  my  blood  will  be  avenged. 

Reject  me  not,  O  Rose,  but  pity  me, 

Is  not  the  Rose  the  Nightingale's  delight? 

The  beauty  of  the  Rose's  charm  appeared 

Long  since  through  coming  of  the  Nightingale. 

Oh,  look  not  angry  on  thy  paramour ; 

What  is  he  but  the  mirror  of  thy  charms? 

For  still  through  Medshnun's  rapture  wild  and  strange 

Was  Leila's  flawless  beauty  long  renowned. 

And  if  no  moth  had  ever  been  consumed 

The  taper  ne'er  had  known  the  adoring  wing. 

And  the  more  love  the  pining  lover  feels. 

So  much  the  more  his  love  should  pine  for  him. 

And  when  the  lover  still  persists  in  love. 

The  one  beloved  should  never  turn  away. 

Oh,  thou  hard-hearted  one,  be  not  incensed, 

But  hear  the  prayer  of  one  who  dies  for  thee, 

For  through  thy  hardness  and  thy  self-content 

Thou  hast  to  nothing  brought  thy  worshipper. 


300  FASLI 

Let  it  be  granted  I  am  not  thy  peer ; 

No  grace  would  be  in  pity  if  I  were. 

O  queen,  with  thy  compassion  make  me  glad, 

And  free  me  from  the  fetters  of  despair." 

And  when  the  Nightingale  his  letter  closed, 

His  next  reflection  was  on  sending  it. 

"  How  shall  I  light  upon  a  messenger 

To  bring  this  letter  to  my  best  beloved  ?  " 

At  last  he  found  a  fitting  messenger 

To  take  his  love  epistle  to  the  queen. 


XXXI 

The  Nightingale  Despatches  Through  the  Jasmine  the 
Letter  Written  Out  of  the  Fullness  of  His  Heart 

In  those  times  dwelt  in  Gülistan  a  youth, 
Lovely  and  silver-bright  and  kind  in  mien. 
He  was  a  letter-carrier  fast  and  safe, 
And  stood  as  messenger  before  the  queen. 
This  youthful  letter-carrier,  silver-bright, 
Whose  manners  were  as  radiant  as  his  face, 
Skilful  and  sure  in  bearing  a  despatch, 
Held  ever  in  his  hand  a  written  roll. 
The  jasmine's  starry  radiance  was  his, 
The  ardor  and  the  stature  of  a  tree. 
His  elegance  adorned  the  garden  glade. 
And  Sandbach  is  the  name  they  gave  to  him. 
The  Nightingale  his  orders  gave  to  him 
And  poured  his  secret  in  a  faithful  breast, 
And  said  to  him,  "  O  generous  friend  of  mine, 
May  the  Most  High  have  mercy  on  thy  soul ! 
Why  shouldst  thou  not  bring  tidings  to  the  queen 
Of  all  her  slave  has  dreamt  about  her  charms  ? 
If  thou  this  letter  wilt  convey  for  me, 
All  that  I  have  in  future  shall  be  thine. 
Since  yonder  distant  loveliness  through  thee 
May  show  itself  propitious  to  my  prayer." 
The  Sandbach  the  commission  undertook, 
And  said :  "  'Tis  well ;  cheer  up.     I  only  hope 


1 


THE    ROSE    AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  301 

Thy  letter  that  is  written  by  thy  hand 

May  carry  no  misfortune  to  the  queen." 

He  took  the  folded  missive  in  his  hand, 

And  his  foot  followed  on  his  hand's  despatch. 

Low  bowed  he  when  he  reached  the  Rose's  seat, 

And  gave  the  love-letter  into  her  hand. 

The  Rose  received  from  him  the  billet-doux, 

And  read  the  running  letters  of  its  page. 

And  when  she  understood  the  note's  intent. 

And  how  the  wistful  bird  in  torture  pined. 

Then  said  she :  "  Tell  me  how  the  poor  man  fares. 

Does  he  still  mourn,  and  for  compassion  cry? 

Does  separation  still  his  bosom  tear? 

Does  his  heart  bleed,  as  bleeds  the  tulip's  heart? 

Give  my  heart's  greeting  to  the  wretched  one. 

And  wish  him  healing  of  his  misery. 

May  he  no  longer  mourn  if  fate  permit, 

And  be  his  heart  no  more  consumed  in  woe. 

I  will  henceforth  be  faithful  unto  him. 

And  bend  myself  to  succor  his  distress; 

Since  he  has  separated  been  from  me, 

Consumed  within  the  furnace  of  his  pain, 

I  will  henceforth  with  greater  tenderness 

Assuage  the  fiery  ardor  of  the  wight. 

And  for  a  proof  I  feel  in  honor  bound 

To  send  an  answer  to  these  words  of  love." 

Then  straight  she  took  into  her  hands  a  pen, 

And  wrote  an  answer  to  the  Nightingale. 


XXXII 

The  Dainty  Rose  Sends  Through  the  Tall  Jasmine 
Sandbach  an  Answer  to  the  Letter  of  the  Dis- 
tracted Nightingale 

The  letter  thus  began,  "  Now  praise  to  God, 
A  thousand  greetings  to  his  prophets  be !  " 
Then  she  continued :  "  O  thou  wanderer  wild, 
O  sick  at  heart  that  knowest  no  medicine, 
'Tis  love  that  has  encumbered  all  thy  life 


302 


FASLI 

And  bound  thee  up  in  this  distraction's  coil. 

How  is  it  that  the  misery  of  thy  love 

And  separation  has  so  altered  thee? 

How  should  my  absence  so  affect  thy  heart, 

And  what  concern  is  my  heart's  love  to  thee? 

Does  separation's  knife  thy  spirit  wound, 

And  has  concupiscence  thy  heart  inflamed? 

And  are  thy  eyes  still  wet  with  bitter  tears, 

And  sorrow,  does  it  desolate  thy  soul? 

What  ails  thee,  friend  ?     Art  thou  not  well  in  health  ? 

Or  art  thou  always  languishing  in  pain? 

Art  thou  of  me  so  fiercely  amorous 

That  thou  thus  hastenest  to  enjoy  my  love? 

I  see,  poor  wretch,  that  misery  drives  thee  so. 

That  I  from  sympathy  must  faithful  be. 

'Tis  time  that  I  obedient  to  thy  need 

Should  be,  and  thou  shouldst  take  me  for  a  friend. 

That  I  should  yield  my  beauty  to  thy  hand 

So  long  as  thou  art  worthy  of  the  gift. 

Thou  hast  so  long  been  separation's  slave, 

Thou  now  should  be  fruition's  honored  king. 

Long  hast  thou  drunk  dark  separation's  draught. 

Now  pledge  me  in  enjoyment's  nectary  cup. 

He  who  is  bold  upon  the  path  of  love 

Deserves  to  see  his  loved  one  face  to  face. 

Be  happy,  then,  thy  pain  is  ended  now, 

The  day  of  full  fruition  has  arrived." 

While  thus  the  pen  went  over  the  lettered  page, 

She  closed  the  brief  epistle  with  a  kiss. 

Then  gave  it  to  the  messenger,  and  so 

Let  him  who  wept  and  sorrowed  now  rejoice. 

Into  his  hand  the  letter  Sandbach  took, 

The  letter  that  should  cheer  the  Nightingale, 

And  said:  "  I  bring  to  thee  good  news  of  joy, 

No  more  the  wretch  may  sighing  pass  his  hours. 

Now  has  happiness  awoke  from  sleep 

And  on  the  joyless  now  has  joy  bestowed." 

With  eagerness  he  gave  to  him  the  note. 

"  The  Lord  is  very  merciful,"  he  said, 

"  For  after  absence  oft  fruition  comes. 


I 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  303 

Cease,  then,  the  clamor  of  thy  lack-a-day." 
Soon  as  the  Nightingale  the  tidings  heard 
He  was  beside  himself  from  keen  desire. 
He  kissed  the  letter,  read  it  with  his  eyes, 
Then  opened  it  and  closed  it  up  again. 
He  said :  "  The  letter  is  an  amulet, 
A  written  patent  from  the  grace  of  God, 
A  letter  of  reprieve  in  God's  own  name, 
Of  liberation  from  despair  and  grief." 
And  as  the  Nightingale  the  letter  read 
The  cry  of  ardent  passion  burst  from  him, 
A  flood  of  inspiration  seized  his  soul — 
He  worshipped  every  cipher  one  by  one, 
He  thanked  the  Lord  with  loud  hilarity, 
And  with  a  burst  of  gladness  praised  the  pen 
The  soul  of  all  those  letters  gave  to  him. 
Fresh  life  supplanting  now  the  death  of  love. 
His  keen  desire  inspired  his  throbbing  throat, 
And  he  could  nothing  sing  but  of  the  Rose. 


XXXHI 

Description  of  the  Night  and  of  the  Reproof  Which 
THE  Treacherous  Hyacinth  Gave  in  Answer  to  the 
Poor  Nightingale 

It  was  a  night  in  which  the  rose  garden 

Was  clear  illumined  as  with  light  of  day, 

When  tints  of  darkness  interblent  with  light 

Went  wandering  over  beds  of  hyacinths. 

The  moon  stood  high  upon  the  dome  of  heaven. 

And  round  her  was  the  company  of  stars. 

Upon  this  night  the  Nightingale  discoursed 

In  dulcet  notes  the  ardor  of  his  soul. 

He  sang  at  first  in  his  delight  and  joy 

His  song  in  every  tone  the  poets  knew. 

Upon  this  night  a  hyacinth  came  by, 

A  vixen  full  of  tricks  and  treachery. 

In  her  dark  night  attire  she  forward  sped, 

To  wander  through  the  glades  of  Gülistan. 


304 


FASLI 

Then  suddenly  she  heard  a  tuneful  note ; 
Like  Anka's  echo  came  the  storm  of  song. 
Forward  she  came  and  saw  the  pilgrim  poor, 
Who  moaned  as  if  he  consolation  claimed. 
Close  to  the  minstrel  she  ensconced  herself, 
And  looking  up  to  Bulbul,  greeted  him. 
And  said  to  him,  "  Pray  tell  to  me  thy  name. 
Why  is  it  that  thou  clamorest  so  loud  ?  " 

He  said,  "  I  call  upon  the  one  I  love. 

Through  love  I  did  forget  how  loud  I  cried." 

Quoth  she,  "  To  whom  has  love  devoted  thee  ? 

Who  is  it  that  thy  heart  and  spirit  love  ?  " 

Quoth  he,  "  I  am  the  bondsman  of  my  love, 

For  one  in  love  is  thrall  and  pupil  too." 

Quoth  she,  "  What  bond  and  emblem  bearest  thou  ? 

Whence  dost  thou  come  ?     What  is  thy  native  land  ?  ' 

Quoth  he,  "  Love  hath  no  ensign  and  no  home. 

No  special  dwelling-place  in  any  realm." 

Quoth  she,  "  Explain  to  me  this  pain  of  thine. 

Tell  me  the  secrets  of  thy  loving  heart." 

Quoth  he,  "  I  have  no  other  guide  but  love." 

And  here  he  stopped  and  spake  no  other  word. 

Quoth  she,  "  What  is  the  character  of  love  ? 

And  does  it  bring  the  lover  aught  of  gain  ?  " 

Quoth  he,  "  Love  brings  its  slave  to  nothingness. 

It  forfeits  every  gain,  but  wins  delight." 

Quoth  she,  "  And  what  is,  then,  the  end  of  love  ? 

Does  he  who  loves  find  rest  his  home  at  last  ?  " 

Quoth  he,  "  The  goal  of  love  is  sufifering's  lot. 

The  heart  through  love  finds  all  its  end  in  pain." 

Quoth  she,  "  The  wise  man  never  longs  for  pain, 

More  perfect  he  who  shuns  disquietude." 

Quoth  he,  "  Who  suffers  not  is  not  a  man. 

For  manhood  must  be  based  on  suffering. 

And  he  who  suddenly  in  pain  is  plunged 

Befits  him  then  to  suffer  patiently." 

Quoth  she,  "  In  pain,  then,  thou  dost  take  delight, 

Then  cease  thy  sighs  and  study  self-control." 

Quoth  he,  "  And  hadst  thou  medicine  for  thy  pain  ?  ' 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  305 

Quoth  he,  "  I  need  none  till  my  heart  be  broke." 
Quoth  she,  "And  over  whom  dost  thou  lament?" 
Quoth  he,  "  My  only  one,  my  darling  queen," 
Quoth  she,  "  But  tell  me  what  her  name  may  be  ?  " 
Quoth  he,  "  Alas,  I  have  forgot  her  name." 
Quoth  she,  "  Bethink  thee,  till  it  come  again," 
Quoth  he,  "  Do  lovers  have  the  power  of  thought?  " 
Quoth  she,  "  What  makes  thy  speech  so  riddling  dark  ?  " 
Quoth  he,  "  My  love's  hair  has  entangled  me." 
Quoth  she,  "  Give  up  this  passion  for  thy  queen," 
Quoth  he,  "  But  that  were  to  give  up  my  soul," 
Quoth  she,  "  Thy  mistress  is  not  true  to  thee," 
Quoth  he,  "  Enough  to  me  is  her  disdain," 
Quoth  she,  "  Fruition  of  her  cannot  be," 
Quoth  he,  "  Without  her  I  am  bound  to  die," 
Quoth  she,  "  Begone  and  leave  this  rose  garden." 
Quoth  he,  "  To  leave  this  spot  is  leaving  life," 
Quoth  she,  "  No  pity  is  outpoured  for  thee," 
Quoth  he,  "  Yet  pity  still  be  praised  by  me," 
Quoth  she,  "  And  dost  thou  hope  for  bliss  at  last?" 
Quoth  he,  "  Does  not  the  sun  shed  light  over  all?  " 
Quoth  she,  "  Thou  liest  beneath  the  sword  of  pain." 
Quoth  he,  "  So  be  it,     I  have  naught  to  say," 
Quoth  she,  "  This  separation  costs  thy  blood," 
Quoth  he,  "  My  blood,  yes,  and  my  soul  as  well." 
She  saw  that  this  poor  wretched  stripling  still 
An  answer  made  to  every  jibe  of  hers. 
The  hyacinth  with  jealous  passion  glowered. 
Her  face  grew  black  through  bitterness  and  wrath. 
Quoth  she :  "  'Tis  palpable  to  me  at  last, 
This  oaf  is  amorous  of  the  Rose  herself, 
And  can  it  be  that  in  the  rose  garden 
So  dissolute  a  rover  should  appear? 
What  is  his  business  here  in  Gülistan? 
What  is  he  doing  in  our  garden  realm  ? 
He  must  at  once  be  banished  from  the  place. 
So  that  he  tread  no  more  our  glorious  glade. 
It  is  a  burning  shame,  in  truth,  that  one 
So  beggarly  should  at  our  threshold  lie." 
And  so  excited  was  the  hyacinth 
20 


3o6  FASLI 

That  long  she  pondered  trick  and  guile  and  ruse. 
Well  versed  was  she  in  crooked  ways  of  guile, 
And  took  delight  in  devious  intrigue. 
And  now  she  tried  some  method  to  devise 
By  which  to  purge  the  bowers  of  Gülistan, 


XXXIV 

The  Insidious  Hyacinth,  Her  Mind  Darkened  With 
Envy,  Contrives  That  the  Nightingale  is  Expelled 
From  the  Rose  Garden 

Just  when  the  sun  of  full  fruition  dawned, 

An  obstacle  that  instant  rose  to  sight. 

Oft  the  possessor  of  a  faithful  friend 

Is  rescued  from  the  clutches  of  despair, 

The  Rose  is  circled  round  with  many  a  thorn, 

And  where  the  treasure  lies  do  serpents  coil. 

And  where  a  friend  appears  to  cheer  the  heart 

A  foeman  also  rises  to  oppose, 

A  cruel  foe  had  thus  appointed  been 

To  take  his  stand  as  guardian  of  the  Rose. 

The  royal  watchman  of  her  Majesty, 

Her  careful  master  at  her  beck  and  call, 

Tyrannical,  in  nature  envious. 

Evil  in  mind,  rejoicing  to  give  pain. 

Whose  nod  was  dreadful  as  the  cast  of  spears, 

Whose  eyelashes  were  terrible  as  darts. 

He  ever  stood  with  dagger  at  his  belt 

And  in  his  hand  the  deadly  partisan ; 

Like  Mars  on  guard  within  some  prison-house. 

Armed  was  he  on  each  limb  with  knife  and  spear. 

And  he  who  merely  offered  him  his  hand 

Was  ripped  and  mangled  to  the  very  quick. 

His  every  deed  was  full  of  rancorous  wrath. 

And  in  the  rose-garden  his  name  was  Thorn. 

The  hyacinth  fell  in  with  him  that  day 

In  her  attempt  to  oust  the  Nightingale. 

And  by  the  thorn  she  thought  to  bring  him  bane, 

And  kept  this  secret  in  her  darkling  breast. 


THE    ROSE    AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  307 

That  from  the  pleasant  shades  of  GuHstan 

Bulbul  might  banished  be  for  evermore. 

The  hyacinth,  in  many  an  intrigue  versed, 

Thus  full  of  rage  approached  the  deadly  thorn. 

And  said:  "  O  thou,  what  dost  thou  rage  for  now? 

Hast  thou  no  sense  of  honor  and  no  pride  ? 

For  in  this  rose  garden  a  rover  stands, 

A  lover  of  the  Rose,  a  noisy  wight, 

A  wanton  fool,  inspired  by  jealous  whim. 

Who  desecrates  the  Rose's  queenly  name. 

But  he  is  shameless,  without  reverence. 

And  talks  the  whole  night  long  of  naught  but  love. 

Can  it  be  possible,  that  such  as  he 

Is  taken  up  with  passion  for  the  Rose? 

That  he  by  sighing  and  by  songs  of  love 

Should  take  the  fair  name  of  our  queen  away  ? 

That  he  should  choose  her  name  to  be  the  theme 

Of  common  babble  in  the  market-place  ? 

The  Rose  through  him  will  now  be  scandal's  theme, 

And  round  the  world  will  men  revile  the  Rose, 

This  vagabond  hath  thus  behaved  himself 

And  many  a  lying  vow  has  breathed  to  her. 

I  fear  that  by  his  reckless  impudence 

Her  noble  name  at  last  may  suffer  loss. 

Soon  as  the  thorn  these  treacherous  tidings  heard 

Each  hair  upon  his  head  became  a  sword. 

And  the  assassin  thorn  spake  full  of  wrath : 

"  God  blame  thee  for  a  worthless  loon !     And  why 

Didst  thou  not  long  ere  this  the  vagabond 

In  fetters  bind,  a  prisoner  on  the  spot. 

And  put  the  chain  of  serfdom  round  his  neck. 

And  lock  him  fast  within  the  prison  hold?  " 

She  answered :  "  Though  I  have  not  fettered  him. 

Yet  have  I  reasoned  with  him  many  times. 

My  council  yet  was  bootless  to  the  churl. 

He  answered  every  word  with  repartee," 

The  thorn  replied :  "  Point  out  the  wretch  to  me. 

The  sot  and  the  seducer  of  the  town. 

His  gore  shall  tinge  my  poniard  scarlet  bright, 

For  I  shall  plunge  it  in  his  dastard  blood." 


3o8  FASLI 

So  saying,  from  his  seat  out  sprang  the  thorn 

And  drew  his  dagger  in  a  burst  of  rage. 

The  very  moment  he  the  Bulbul  found 

He  dealt  him  many  a  wound  with  flashing  blade, 

And  said  to  him :  "  Audacious  beggar,  thou 

Who  knowest  neither  modesty  nor  ruth, 

What  brought  thee  to  the  harem  of  our  Queen  ? 

Think  of  her  rank  and  of  thy  base  estate, 

Thou  who  each  night  dost  shout  thy  lack-a-day 

Dost  thou  not  feel  some  shame  ?     Away  with  thee, 

Away  with  all  this  hubbub  and  this  cry. 

Is  this  a  prison,  or  a  lady's  bower? 

How  comes  it  that  without  a  blush  of  shame 

Thou  callest  o'er  and  o'er  again  her  name? 

Show  thyself  here  no  longer,  beggar  vile, 

Go  hide  that  sottish  countenance  of  thine. 

Or  else  without  or  hinderance  or  delay 

I  with  my  dagger  will  thy  bosom  cleave." 

With  that  the  thorn  transfixed  the  Nightingale, 

Giving  him  pangs  of  sufferings  manifold. 

And  now  the  Nightingale  with  cries  of  pain 

And  thousand  lamentations  leaves  the  grove. 

He  left  the  grove,  the  rose  garden  of  love, 

And  sang  his  sorrow  to  the  break  of  morn. 


XXXV 

The  Ruthless  Thorn  Gives  Advice  to  the  Soft-cheeked 

Rose 

The  thorn,  his  thoughts  on  hate  and  vengeance  fixed, 

Soon  as  he  had  outraged  the  Nightingale 

Went  straightway  hurriedly  to  see  the  Rose, 

And  gave  her  counsel  in  a  long  address. 

And  said  to  her,  "  How  did  it  happen,  Rose, 

That  such  an  oaf  could  make  his  love  to  thee. 

And  that  the  very  lowest  of  the  low 

By  his  addresses  could  affront  thy  name? 

Thou  art  the  pearl,  the  princess.    Can  it  be 

A  nameless  beggar  should  draw  nigh  to  thee? 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  309 

That  night  and  day  by  his  persistent  song 

He  causes  all  the  grove  to  prate  of  thee? 

Is  it  that  thou  his  daring  would  approve 

And  smilest  on  his  ardor  and  desires, 

And  givest  ear  to  such  a  rogue  as  this 

And  listenest  to  the  words  he  says  to  thee, 

So  that  the  beggar  in  thy  favor  proud 

Shameless  inflates  himself  and  boasts  his  crime? 

He  is  a  man  of  boundless  arrogance. 

And  of  audacity  untamable. 

Do  not  encourage  him,  my  gracious  queen. 

The  beggar  knows  the  truth  about  himself. 

I,  with  my  sword,  have  pierced  his  breast  with  wounds 

And  gladly  stretched  him  bleeding  on  the  ground. 

And  that  I  did  not  out  of  fear  for  thee, 

But  out  of  reverence  for  this  pleasant  grove." 

Soon  as  the  Rose  these  words  of  fury  heard, 

Pained  to  the  heart,  her  rage  o'ermastered  her. 

She  said :  "  What  has  this  beggar  done  to  thee. 

That  thou  shouldst  thus  transfix  his  soul  with  pain? 

He  is  a  harmless  wretch  in  dire  distress. 

In  sorrow  and  perplexity  involved. 

He  came  with  all  his  melodies  of  love 

Two  days  ago  a  guest  in  this  fair  grove. 

Shame  that  thou  thus  hast  wronged  and  injured  him! 

Sure  no  one  has  this  guest  repulsed  with  scorn. 

Does  it  befit  the  soul  magnanimous 

To  outrage  and  bring  scorn  upon  a  guest? 

Tell  me  what  harm  he  ever  did  to  thee. 

This  pilgrim  foreigner  and  hermit  pure. 

That  thou  hast  undertaken  thus  to  cleave 

His  bosom  with  that  cruel  blade  of  thine? 

Was  it  because  he  sang  with  flowing  heart? 

A  song  of  sorrow  gives  our  souls  delight. 

He  was  the  minstrel  of  our  happy  lawn, 

And  won  the  flowers  to  raise  their  chalice  higher. 

Not  lawlessly  my  fetters  he  endured. 

Then  what  disgrace  for  me  can  be  in  this? 

For  beauty  and  accomplishment  complete 

Have  always  made  their  orisons  to  love. 


3IO 


! 


FASLI 

And  beauty's  self  is  perfected  through  love, 

And  beauty  without  love  endures  eclipse. 

When  love  entwines  itself  round  beauty's  form 

It  gives  no  stigma  to  the  thing  it  holds. 

And  nothing  can  the  crown  of  beauty  mar, 

Though  thousand  thousands  babble  out  her  name. 

Was  Joseph  in  Egyptian  lands  disgraced, 

When  he  was  object  of  the  people's  love? 

Go,  leave  the  poor  man  in  tranquillity, 

Harass  him  not,  be  pitiful  to  him. 

Thou  must  not  him  with  cruelty  oppress, 

But  treat  him  after  this  with  kindliness." 

When  the  thorn  heard  the  Rose's  reprimand, 

Like  needles  on  his  head  uprose  his  hair. 

What  he  had  heard  was  not  what  he  desired, 

And  trouble  overspread  his  countenance. 

And  now  the  royal  audience  was  o'er, 

He  went  to  visit  Spring,  the  garden's  king. 


XXXVI 

The  Hard-hearted  Thorn  Slanders  the  Lovesick  Night- 
ingale Before  the  Monarch  of  the  Spring 

He  hurried  to  the  palace  of  the  shah, 
And  standing  on  his  feet  before  the  throne, 
He  said :  "  My  sovereign  to  the  end  of  time, 
May  thy  prosperity  unbroken  be! 
There  lingers  in  the  rose  garden  a  rogue 
By  day  and  night,  a  rogue  incurable 
Who  by  the  Rose  infatuated  lives, 
And  drunken  with  love's  goblet  is  distraught. 
Nor  night  nor  day  he  ceases  his  complaint 
As  he  relates  the  beauties  of  the  Rose, 
Nor  night  nor  day  can  I  o'ermaster  him. 
The  beggar  still  with  fire  poetic  burns, 
He  has  nor  shame  nor  self-respect  in  life. 
And  finds  alone  in  drunkenness  delight. 
The  Rose  herself  is  fettered  by  his  lay,^ 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  3u 

And  sympathizes  with  this  amorous  sot. 

Now  the  affair  has  reached  the  final  stage, 

And  he  has  gained  the  notice  of  the  Rose." 

Soon  as  the  monarch  had  heard  the  thorn's  address, 

Perturbed,  he  thus  addressed  the  Hstening  slave: 

"  Where  is  this  beggar,  pale  and  passionate  ? 

Let  him  be  seized  and  in  a  cell  confined." 

And  so  he  sent  his  hunter  to  the  grove, 

A  hunter  of  inexorable  heart. 

And  said  to  him,  "  Go  seek  the  beggar-man 

And  put  him  without  pity  into  chains." 

Soon  as  the  firman  of  the  king  went  out 

They  quickly  scoured  the  glades  of  Gülistan, 

And  sought  amid  the  rose-garden  parterres 

For  traces  of  the  tuneful  Nightingale. 


XXXVII 

The  Wounded  Nightingale  Sees  the  Violets,  His  Com- 
panions IN  Adversity;  They  Approach  Each  Other, 
and  the  Nightingale  is  Shut  Up  in  a  Cage 

He  who  sets  out  to  adorn  his  countenance 

Makes  plainer  the  expression  of  his  face, 

And  thus  it  fell  that  when  the  Nightingale 

Felt  his  breast  severed  by  the  thorn's  assault, 

Far  wandering  from  the  glade  of  Gülistan, 

He  traversed  many  a  field  and  meadow  plain. 

And  as  he  thus  for  consolation  sought, 

He  saw  a  poor  man  in  a  quiet  nook. 

Who  sat  in  weakness  and  in  misery, 

His  figure  bowed  in  deep  despondency.  ' 

He  seemed  down-trodden,  blue,  and  broken-limbed, 

As  is  the  life  of  those  whom  love  has  crowned. 

He  sat  in  weeds  of  sorrow  on  the  plain. 

For  he  was  clad  in  robes  of  mourning  blue. 

His  head  sank  low  upon  the  mossy  sod, 

As  if  his  mind  wandered  beyond  the  world. 

He  breathed  the  fragrant  love  breath  of  the  grove. 


312 


FASLI 

His  cup  was  filled  with  wine  of  suffering. 

He  had  a  tongue  which  never  uttered  sound, 

'Twas  oft  thrust  out  from  very  weariness. 

And  since  he  filled  his  vials  with  his  tears, 

They  called  him  in  the  garden  violet. 

The  wounded  Nightingale  accosted  him. 

Beholding  one  all  destitute  of  strength. 

But  he  was  overcome  with  hopeless  love, 

His  frame  convulsed  with  suffering  and  dismay. 

Here  Bulbul  found  a  comrade  in  distress, 

And  with  a  question  tried  to  hearten  him. 

And  said:  "  My  friend,  what  has  befallen  thee? 

How  is  it  love  has  dealt  so  hard  with  thee  ? 

I  see,  thou  art  a  worthy  slave  of  love, 

From  which  thou  art  so  weak  and  overwrought. 

What  is  it  in  thy  mind  which  makes  thee  sigh  ? 

Pilgrim,  why  wearest  thou  this  mourning  blue? 

Is  it  that  thy  beloved  has  done  thee  wrong? 

Or  has  a  rival  stepped  into  thy  place? 

For  grief  has  bent  thee  double  by  its  load. 

And  all  thy  soul  is  out  tune  through  grief. 

Who  is  it  that  has  flung  thee  to  the  dust  ? 

Who  is  it  gave  thee  to  be  rapine's  sport? 

The  feet  of  men  have  trod  thee  to  the  ground. 

As  a  poor  weakling  in  the  gay  parterre. 

Was  it  the  loved  one  pierced  thee  to  the  soul  ? 

Or  is  it  that  a  rival  tortures  thee? 

Say,  wretched  one,  what  ails  thee,  for  thy  pain, 

Binds  thee  at  once  in  kinship  with  my  heart." 

He  noticed  how  the  violet,  weak  in  speech. 

With  stammering  tongue  at  length  replied  to  him, 

"  I,  too,  am  wounded  by  the  darts  of  love. 

And  thus  my  case  is  witness  to  thy  wit, 

'Tis  love  that  bows  my  bosom  to  the  dust, 

'Tis  grief  that  thus  has  flung  me  to  the  earth. 

For  oh,  my  soul  has  taken  the  fire  of  love, 

I  burn  for  satisfaction  and  relief. 

The  breath  which  from  my  lips  forever  comes 

Has  tinged  my  raiment  with  this  mournful  blue, 

And  longing  for  the  Rose  has  done  to  death. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  313 

Absence  from  her  has  thus  afflicted  me; 
'Tis  love  that  makes  me  grovel  in  the  dust. 
And  in  this  guise  I  traverse  all  the  world. 
I  am  tormented  by  the  pangs  of  love, 
And  finally  the  dust  becomes  my  home. 
Love  as  I  may  the  beauty  of  the  Rose, 
Alas,  that  beauty  I  may  ne'er  enjoy. 
For  she  is  ignorant  of  my  distress, 
And  I  may  never  paint  it  to  her  heart. 
And  no  man  knows  the  anguish  of  my  mind. 
I  have  no  friend  familiar  on  this  plain, 
And  now  I  am  so  wan  and  courageless, 
I  cannot  even  speak  of  my  distress." 
Now  when  the  Nightingale  this  poor  man  saw, 
He  felt  compassion  for  his  misery, 
And  each  one  to  the  other  freely  spoke 
Of  all  their  woes,  and  many  things  besides. 
Then  suddenly  the  royal  spy  approached. 
With  darkling  eyes  and  cunning  looks  askew, 
And  while  these  two  together  converse  held. 
And  mourned  over  the  ardor  of  their  love. 
The  cunning  snare  was  spread  above  the  bird, 
And  corn  was  scattered  for  the  prey's  decoy. 
The  Nightingale  was  seized  with  cruel  hand, 
And  in  a  moment  into  durance  cast. 
And  for  the  pain  and  anguish  of  the  wretch 
A  cage  was  brought  with  many  an  iron  bar. 
And  then  he  was  imprisoned  in  the  cage. 
The  cage  must  be  his  dungeon  evermore, 
And  now  the  Nightingale  at  last  was  caught. 
And  banished  evermore  from  peace  and  joy. 
Like  a  poor  anxious  prisoner  was  he  now, 
For  what  more  like  a  prison  than  a  cage? 
And  night  and  day  within  that  cage  he  wept, 
O'erwrought  by  absence  and  the  pang  of  love. 
They  brought  him  in  his  cage  before  the  shah, 
Before  the  shah  he  sang  his  well-a-day. 
The  Nightingale  was  sick  from  suffering  sore. 
Ah,  see,  what  a  deluding  world  can  do! 


314  FASLI 


XXXVIII 


King  August  Appears  in  the  East  and  Devastates 

THE  Earth 

O  heart,  thy  tongue  now  kindle  into  fire, 

Soften  thy  disposition  with  desire. 

Build  up  a  burning  story  out  of  truth, 

And  with  hot  breath  go  raging  through  the  world. 

Oh,  let  the  utterance  of  the  pen  stream  fire, 

And  let  the  world  itself  go  off  in  fire. 

Whoever  sets  ablaze  the  narrative 

Shall  lighten  up  the  circle  of  the  world. 

In  Eastern  lands  there  sat  enthroned  in  might 

A  mighty  monarch  potent  and  revered. 

A  sovereign  who  could  set  afire  the  earth, 

He  was  a  hero  of  a  fiery  heart.  ğ 

His  marrow  was  with  happiness  aflame,  " 

And  the  world  sighed  beneath  his  conquering  arm, 

And  he  was  wont  with  his  prevailing  wrath 

To  lay  in  devastation  all  the  land. 

He  blazed  in  every  confine  of  the  earth, 

And  glowing  ardor  shone  where'er  he  trod. 

Although  he  was  of  fervent  nature  born, 

All  that  he  counselled  was  by  wisdom  marked. 

He  touched  the  mountain  with  the  brew  of  life, 

And  gave  to  all  the  world  her  energy. 

A  king  of  flame  who  sat  enthroned  in  light. 

His  name  was  that  of  sun  and  moon  in  one ; 

His  happiness  was  heat  on  heat  incre^ased. 

And  the  world  swooned  submissive  to  his  sway. 

And  more  and  more  his  fervor  he  increased. 

His  rage  and  heat  laid  desolate  the  earth. 

The  world  was  kindled  like  a  flame  of  fire. 

His  deadly  hand  threw  conflagration  round. 

The  people  dofifed  the  garments  they  had  worn, 

So  much  they  feared  the  coming  of  his  rage. 

During  his  reign  went  no  one  out  of  doors. 

And  all  the  people  kept  themselves  at  home. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  315 

Until  they  wearied  of  this  quietude, 

And  all  were  willing  to  endure  his  glow, 

And  all  were  willing  in  the  shade  to  be, 

Some  in  the  garden,  some  by  city  wall. 

Meanwhile  the  world  flamed  out  in  cruel  plight, 

And  like  a  templed  altar  worshipped  him. 

The  sparks  of  horror  seethed  with  higher  glow. 

And  the  great  banners  of  his  power  rose  higher. 

At  last  he  styled  him  "  Emperor  of  the  World," 

His  banners  flaunted  in  the  firmament, 

The  hues  of  heat  were  painted  in  the  sky. 

The  dust  was  in  his  honor  turned  to  flame, 

His  blaze  subdued  the  universe  in  light, 

His  fury  kindled  like  a  furnace  coal. 

In  time  he  sent  his  heat  out  far  and  wide. 

The  scent  of  scorched  wild-fowl  went  o'er  the  land, 

His  fury  choked  the  very  sigh  of  love, 

And  in  the  watercourse  he  scorched  the  stone. 

And  by  the  influence  of  his  raging  fire 

The  circling  birds  were  roasted  as  they  flew, 

And  every  grain  was  parched  upon  its  sod. 

The  scent  of  musk,  in  conflagration  quenched, 

The  world  made  nothing  but  a  pit  of  ash, 

And  nothing  green  was  left  upon  the  plain. 

And  greater  still  grew  up  the  tyrant's  power, 

And  the  burnt  streams  were  dried  within  their  beds. 

And  more  and  more  with  grisly  cruelty, 

What  time  the  people  lay  upon  the  rack. 

The  ladder  of  the  heavens  was  all  aglow, 

And  sent  out  sparks  like  to  a  furnace  grate. 

And  the  earth  felt  his  ardor  like  a  scourge. 

And  melted  ashen-colored  into  dust. 

And  no  one  wore  a  shoe  for  very  heat, 

And  the  brain  reeled  beneath  the  o'erpowering  blast, 

And  in  the  river  that  reflecteth  heaven 

The  fish  and  cattle  were  but  shrivelled  forms. 

In  short,  the  world  was  made  a  weary  waste, 

Fire  raged  around  on  every  side,  and  heat. 

Brought  by  the  bitter  fury  of  the  blast, 

Took  all  the  beauty  from  the  realm  of  man. 


3i6  FASLI 


XXXIX 

King  August  Sends  the  Hot  Wind  With  Fire  to  the 

Rose  Gaiîden 

Whoever  sets  afire  this  history- 
Has  fed  with  fuel  a  refulgent  lamp; 
For  August,  sitting  on  his  royal  throne, 
Is  mighty  in  his  exercise  of  power; 
He  gathered  all  the  nobles  of  the  land 
To  heaven,  to  meet  him  at  the  great  Divan. 
He  was  by  fortune  and  by  greatness  warmed. 
And  through  his  power  and  lordship,  filled  with  pride. 
And  thus  he  spake  among  his  mighty  lords : 
"  Speed  as  ye  may  o'er  earth's  remotest  line, 
I  now  am  lord  of  all  the  universe; 
See  in  my  hand  it  melt,  how  weak  it  is ! 
The  ardor  of  my  fury  works  in  it, 
And  my  heat  flies  from  brow  to  sweating  brow. 
And  lives  there  now  on  earth  a  single  wight 
Who  has  not  felt  the  ardor  of  my  breath? 
And  is  there  king  of  greatness  and  of  might 
Who  has  not  felt  the  flaming  of  mine  eyes  ?  " 
They  answered :  "  Sire,  the  world  is  all  aglow ! 
'Tis  very  true  thy  fury  sways  the  world. 
And  yet  in  Rûm  there  is  a  little  town 
Such  as  the  world  has  never  seen  before. 
'Tis  governed  by  a  monarch  of  its  own; 
His  throne  with  budding  honor  is  adorned; 
The  town  is  called  the  Garden  of  the  Rose, 
The  king  is  named  the  monarch  of  the  spring. 
There  the  green  blade  that  tranquil  lifts  its  head 
Has  never  felt  the  fury  of  thy  heat." 
Soon  as  these  words  the  monarch  August  heard 
His  bosom  with  tempestuous  heat  was  filled. 
He  said :  "  At  once  we  undertake  the  task 
Of  devastating  that  forgotten  realm. 
And  while  its  monarch  joys  with  placid  heart 
Disaster  shall  rain  down  upon  his  head. 


THE    ROSE    AND    THE    NIGHTINGALE  317 

And  yet  'tis  necessary,  first  of  all, 

A  messenger  from  me  be  sent  to  them. 

To  testify  my  grandeur  in  their  sight 

And  bear  the  tidings  that  I  send  to  them. 

That  when  they  learn  of  my  design,  through  fear 

Their  courage  may  dissolve  like  ice  in  spring. 

For  he  must  say  that  I  to  conquer  come 

And  captive  take  the  people  of  the  town. 

The  monarch  must  be  yielded  to  my  hand, 

And  all  must  live  in  terror  of  my  power." 

There  stands  a  courier  at  his  behest, 

Who,  like  a  flea,  now  here,  now  there  is  found ; 

Like  lightning  sudden  is  he  in  his  flight, 

And  rapid  as  the  flame,  or  as  the  thought. 

From  his  breath,  warmed  as  by  a  fever's  heat, 

He  had  been  Samum  named  and  known  to  all. 

And  he  was  with  the  East  Wind  closely  bound, 

His  elder  brother,  as  it  seemed  to  be ; 

The  first  of  them  is  the  delight  of  Spring, 

The  second  is  King  August's  servant  true. 

He  waits  to  bear  the  message  of  the  king. 

Who  said,  "  O  lightning-speeding  messenger, 

Now  hie  thee  swift  to  yonder  rose  garden. 

And  to  the  king  who  rules  there  stoutly  speak 

With  thy  warm  breath  and  with  thy  violent  speech.   ' 

Stir  up  fierce  fire  within  that  little  realm. 

For  from  thy  mouth  does  fire  like  rain  descend, 

Thy  tongue  can  scatter  devastation  round. 

Take  care  thou  speak  not  gently  to  the  king. 

Take  care  that  not  too  furiously  thou  speak. 

Say  to  him :  "  Thou  to  ruin  doomed,  keep  still. 

For  soon  my  fury  burns  thee  up  with  fire. 

For  what  permission  has  been  given  to  thee 

To  reign  in  peace  amid  this  rose  garden 

Without  a  fear  for  my  o'ermastering  might, 

Without  a  thought  upon  the  season's  rage? 

Wilt  thou  not  listen  to  the  word  which  tells 

Of  the  resplendent  lightning  of  my  rage? 

Take  to  thy  mind  and  in  thy  brain  revolve 

How  thou  mayst  save  thy  country  from  my  drought. 


3i8  FASLI 

Surrender  like  a  slave  thy  throne  and  crown, 

And  stand  outside  the  threshold  of  my  gate. 

Give  up  thy  realm,  withdraw  thy  hand  from  it, 

And  thus  win  peace  and  pardon  for  the  land. 

But  if  thou  art  rebellious  to  my  will, 

And  dost  not  yield  to  me  thy  land  and  throne, 

Be  sure  of  this,  that  on  thy  luckless  head  I 

Swift  ruin  shall  descend  without  reprieve." 

When  Samum  took  this  message  from  the  king 

Swift  as  a  storm  he  hurried  on  his  way, 

He  blighted  every  meadow  land  he  crossed. 

And  found  his  journey's  end  in  Gülistan. 


XL 

Samum  Arrives  at  the  Town  of  Rose  Garden  and  Gives 
TO  the  Monarch  of  Spring  the  Message  of  Fierce 
King  August 

Headlong  he  rushed  into  the  rose  garden. 

And  furiously  he  set  it  full  afire ; 

The  tulip  drew  her  tongue  that  burned  like  fire. 

And  panted  feverish  in  the  rose  garden. 

The  tulip  glittered  like  a  spark  of  fire, 

Narcissus,  like  a  lantern,  shot  her  ray, 

Then  danger  threatened  the  inhabitants. 

And  the  Rose  blushed  more  beauteous  still  for  shame. 

The  king  himself  was  in  the  direst  need. 

And  with  a  glance  of  fire  his  voice  he  raised. 

He  pondered  well  what  had  befallen  the  state, 

And  saw  the  true  proportions  of  the  case. 

And  as  he  took  full  knowledge  of  his  plight, 

The  parching  heat  consumed  him  to  the  heart. 

Then  full  of  royal  courage  bold  and  high, 

He  braced  his  soul  and  searched  for  counsel  fit. 

And  said :  "  What  conflagration  visits  us  ? 

Who  is  this  tyrant  August,  and  what  deed 

Of  mine  has  roused  his  fury  that  he  seems 

So  headstrong  and  so  burning  in  his  rage? 

The  rancor  of  his  flames  I  will  repress, 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  319 

My  sword  shall  quench  his  ire  as  water  flame. 

He  is  to  me  no  object  of  alarm, 

Nor  twenty  thousand  furnaces  like  him, 

He  shall  not  venture  further  on  this  sod, 

My  sword  shall  slay  him  as  heat  is  slain  by  stream. 

Go,  say  to  him,  and  bid  him  be  ashamed, 

And  mitigate  this  devastating  heat. 

And  draw  away  his  flames  from  out  the  land, 

And  cease  this  wild  campaign  about  our  walls, 

Or  he  himself  in  his  own  flames  shall  soon 

Be  brought  to  ashes  by  command  of  mine." 

With  such  an  answer  Samum  made  return 

Unto  the  monarch  of  the  summer  time; 

He  gave  him  tidings  from  the  Shah  of  Spring, 

Speaking  the  answer  faithful  word  for  word, 

And  August,  when  the  message  he  had  heard. 

Burst  out  into  a  rage  of  frenzied  heat. 

And  storming,  he  at  once  gave  his  command, 

"  Let  all  my  kingdom  gather  under  arms, 

And  hot  and  fast  be  preparation  made. 

The  rose  garden  in  ruin  must  be  laid." 


XLI 

King  August  Sends  His  Son  as  Field  Marshal  to  the 
City  of  Rose  Garden,  and  the  King  of  Spring, 
Unable  to  Oppose  Him^  Retires  to  the  Heights 

There  was  a  messenger  by  nature  high. 

From  head  to  foot  he  shone  with  dazzling  light. 

His  nature  was  illumination's  soul, 

His  traffic  was  the  ministry  of  fire, 

He  scattered  light  throughout  the  universe. 

And  to  the  zenith  reared  his  lofty  brow. 

'Twas  fire  that  wrought  the  jewelry  of  light. 

His  name  was  nothing  but  the  morning  sun. 

As  lord  and  as  field  marshal  forth  he  went 

And  spurred  his  courser  into  Gülistan. 

King  Spring  was  startled  by  the  news  he  heard, 


320 


FASLI 

That  thus  his  foe  had  hither  made  his  way. 

He  gathered  all  his  nobles  for  advice, 

And  stirred  up  all  his  force  for  feats  of  arms. 

He  roused  them  all  for  war,  the  residents 

Of  rose  garden  he  summoned  to  the  strife. 

The  lily  drew  her  broadsword  from  the  sheath, 

The  thorns  in  hand  their  pricking  arrows  held. 

Even  the  cypress  now  prepared  for  war, 

Stood  ready  with  her  needles  like  a  lance. 

The  tulips  spread  their  petals  like  a  bow. 

And  even  the  dew  prepared  its  pebble-stones. 

The  violets  bent  them  to  a  hostile  bow, 

The  daisies  shot  their  arrows  into  air, 

The  stream  put  on  its  glittering  coat  of  mail, 

And  stood  enclothed  in  panoply  of  steel. 

Like  janizaries  all  the  plants  around, 

Held  in  their  hand  their  pikes  and  partisans. 

And  every  bud  a  threatening  bludgeon  bore, 

And  put  themselves  as  shields  before  the  Rose. 

They  stood  in  ordered  ranks  as  warriors  ranged 

For  war  and  conflict  in  the  cause  of  right. 

Now  when  the  sun  into  rose  garden  came 

A  fiery  volley  straightway  he  discharged. 

And  with  his  heat  began  to  devastate, 

Like  to  some  torch-bearer  of  Eastern  kings. 

And  lo!  the  dwellers  in  the  rose  garden 

Dwindled,  consumed  like  tapers  in  a  mosque. 

The  lily  wilted  like  a  sinking  flame, 

And  quickly  dropped  the  broadsword  from  her  hand. 

The  crimson  tulips  burnt  to  dusky  black. 

And  dropped  their  blazoned  targes  from  their  hand. 

In  a  rude  mass  the  verdant  bowers  collapsed. 

And  the  whole  city  into  ashes  turned. 

Who  can  withstand  the  ravages  of  the  fire? 

Who  can  wage  war  against  its  deadly  line? 

When  to  Shah  Spring  this  news  at  last  was  brought 

His  splendor  and  his  power  faded  away. 

Although  he  struggled  to  maintain  the  strife, 

He  sav/  that  he  was  fated  to  defeat, 

And  straightway  he  betook  himself  to  flight, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  321 

Forsook  the  field  of  battle  for  retreat. 

Retreat  is  cowardly,  yet  there  are  times 

When  stoutest  valor  counsels  a  retreat. 

When  stronger  foes  o'ermaster  those  who  fight 

Retreat  is  better  than  to  rashly  stand. 

Such  was  the  thought  that  swayed  the  monarch  Spring, 

And  so  he  took  the  Rose  and  fled  with  her. 

He  mounted  quickly  to  an  alpine  crag, 

Which  bordered  on  a  chain  of  savage  hills, 

And  all  his  followers  he  took  with  him, 

And  all  the  mountain  side  was  peopled  o'er. 

And  so  he  rested  on  the  towering  peak. 

And  lived  henceforth  in  safety  and  in  peace. 

And  from  that  alp  there  sloped  a  verdant  plain 

Where  happiness  and  fruitfulness  abode. 


XLII 

The  Monarch  Spring  Flees  Also  From  the  Peak  of 
THE  Mountain  and  Disappears,  and  the  Monarch 
August,  in  His  Fury,  Burns  Up  the  City  of  Rose 
Garden 

Meanwhile  the  sun,  field  marshal  of  the  fray, 
Had  to  surrender  brought  the  rose  garden. 
Then  comes  the  monarch  August  with  great  joy. 
To  take  his  seat  on  the  vacated  throne. 
The  garden  dwellers  mourned  in  anxious  care. 
For  still  the  flame  of  fury  burnt  its  way, 
And  all  the  noblest  houses  were  consumed, 
For  the  fierce  glow  of  fire  had  drunk  their  blood. 
Its  fury  hastily  the  tulips  parched. 
And  burnt  to  blindness  the  narcissus'  eyes. 
The  Rose  parterre  is  wrapt  in  dazzling  flame, 
And  fire  amid  the  thickets  reigns  supreme. 
And  soon  as  he  had  blasted  every  bower. 
He  sallied  forth  to  find  the  monarch  Spring. 
And  said  to  each,  "  Where  is  the  monarch  Spring? 
And  whither  has  retired  the  Princess  Rose  ?  " 
21 


322 


FASLI 

They  told  him  they  had  fled  to  mountain  heights, 

Where  cool  fresh  alps  looked  down  upon  the  scene. 

And  when  the  King  of  Summer  learnt  of  this, 

He  sent  his  army  in  pursuit  of  him, 

He  said :  "  Despatch  and  lay  the  monster  waste, 

Let  the  fire  burn  it  like  a  living  heart. 

Seize  and  bring  hither  monarch  Spring  to  me, 

And  drag  the  Rose  into  the  mire  for  me." 

As  soon  as  he  this  firman  had  pronounced, 

The  sun  his  way  directed  to  the  alps. 

And  with  his  army  devastation  wrought, 

As  if  he  would  the  world  in  ruin  lay, 

And  when  the  monarch  Spring  appeared  in  sight. 

The  tyrant  would  him  fain  assassinate. 

In  a  short  time  he  held  the  king  at  bay. 

Seized  on  the  Rose,  and  straight  forsook  the  land. 

Where'er  he  went  was  nothing  left  behind. 

Nothing  appeared  where  once  his  path  had  been. 

No  trace  was  left  of  monarch  Spring's  domain, 

The  Rose  was  nowhere  seen  upon  the  mead. 

Both  from  the  mountain  side  had  disappeared, 

And  no  one  knew  to  what  point  they  had  fled. 

The  sun  triumphant  had  a  victory 

Complete  o'er  every  remnant  of  the  foe. 

He  said,  "  The  monarch  Spring  is  banished  quite, 

And  not  a  foot-track  can  be  found  of  him. 

And  no  one  seems  to  know  where  he  is  gone. 

And  where  to  seek  the  glory  of  the  Rose." 

And  when  the  monarch  August  pondered  this. 

No  longer  was  a  care  left  in  his  breast, 

And  in  one  day  he  made  the  rose  garden 

Naught  other  but  a  revel  place  of  fire. 

And  yet  he  blent  advantages  with  waste, 

Pouring  a  thousand  graces  on  the  spot. 

What  was  unripe  he  mellowed  and  made  sweet, 

To  what  was  crude  maturity  he  brought. 

Into  the  landscape  sent  tranquillity, 

And  mingled  a  bland  sweetness  with  his  rage. 

At  last  he  quite  forsook  his  camping  ground, 

And  made  his  homeward  journey  to  the  East. 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  323 

He  glided  lightly  forth  on  ether's  wing, 
And  reached  at  last  his  station  permanent. 
And  as  he  left  the  placid  meadow  land, 
He  heard  the  news  of  more  important  things. 


XLHI 

Autumn  Comes  From  the  North  With  the  Intention  of 
Administering  the  City  of  Rose  Garden 

There  was  a  king,  distributor  of  gold, 

Well  skilled  the  world  to  deck  in  brilliant  hues, 

Upon  the  world  he  shed  magnificence, 

A  glorious  king  munificent  of  gold. 

High  in  the  North  his  palace  home  was  set, 

There  ever  throned  in  clemency  he  sat. 

This  king  was  of  a  disposition  cold, 

And  moderation  was  his  ruling  trait. 

His  sole  employment  was  to  scatter  gold, 

To  give  mankind  the  pleasure  of  its  glow. 

In  other  excellencies  he  was  rich, 

But  there  was  none  that  scattered  gold  like  him. 

He  was  a  painter,  too,  of  rarest  skill, 

Unique  in  art  and  generosity. 

Before  the  glory  of  his  varied  tints 

Pale  all  the  masterpieces  of  the  world. 

He  tints  the  leafy  curtain  of  the  earth, 

And  Mani's  self  might  wonder  at  the  work. 

He  is  a  painter  great,  of  faultless  touch, 

A  colorist  of  an  unerring  skill. 

He  gives  a  soul  to  every  quivering  leaf. 

Until  it  shows  a  hundred  tints  of  fire. 

He  stamps  it  with  the  lustre  of  the  gold. 

Until  its  very  shadow  is  aflame. 

He  colors  with  the  potency  of  skill 

With  haze  of  rose  and  saffron  every  copse. 

The  master  of  a  double  art  is  he, 

And  famous  for  his  skill  in  either  part. 

And  everv  artist  to  whom  he  is  known 


324 


FASLI 

Him  by  none  other  name  but  Autumn  calls. 

In  might  and  wisdom  he  is  affluent, 

And  by  his  grace  and  kindness  ever  warm, 

And  through  his  reign  the  world  was  kept  at  peace, 

Because  he  gave  such  freedom  to  the  world. 

He  showered  his  gifts  on  every  land  and  clime, 

A  paragon  of  generosity. 

And  through  his  gifts,  at  last  reduced  to  earth. 

He  leaves  at  least  the  hungry  satisfied. 

Through  him  of  little  worth  was  reckoned  gold, 

He  scattered  it  around  like  dust  and  soil. 

Though  he  was  famous  for  his  graciousness, 

Well  did  he  know  to  injure  by  his  might. 

When  he  was  angry  all  his  breath  was  frost, 

And  those  who  saw  him  with  affright  grew  pale. 

The  world  its  face  of  summer  loveliness 

Was  changed  to  other  colors  at  his  touch, 

For  fear  of  him  the  rose  garden  grew  faint, 

And  sallowed  into  tints  of  mellow  gold. 

He  was  a  wonder  worker  of  his  kind, 

Pity  in  him  went  hand  in  hand  with  rage. 

Cold  was  he  by  his  nature,  half  of  ice 

And  half  of  water  was  his  intellect. 

Yet  ofttimes  did  he  blaze  with  glance  of  heat. 

The  blessing  that  he  brought  outweighed  the  bane, 

And  when  he  gently  spoke  with  anyone 

His  countenance  was  lit  with  radiant  warmth. 

Yet  toward  the  end  he  turned  to  bitter  cold. 

And  kept  that  bearing  to  the  vçry  end. 

Shah  August  once  in  regal  state  assumed 

His  seat  among  the  nobles  in  Divan. 

He  gathered  round  him  all  his  ministers 

To  greet  his  emirs  and  his  noblemen, 

When  suddenly  there  came  to  him  the  news 

That  all  the  garden's  realm  in  ruin  lay. 

That  banished  was  the  monarch  of  the  mead, 

And  the  bower's  beauty  all  was  devastate. 

And  when  the  monarch  August  heard  the  news 

The  tidings  made  him  quiver  like  a  leaf. 

Full  of  impatience  and  anxiety 


THE   ROSE    AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  325 

He  hastened  to  explore  the  garden  glade. 
Although  he  well  believed  the  tidings  true, 
He  wished  to  have  authentic  evidence, 
And  that  this  evidence  he  might  attain, 
A  sgy  must  needs  be  on  the  errand  sent. 


XLIV 

King  Autumn  Sends  a  Reconnoitring  Party  to  the  City 
OF  Rose  Garden,  and  in  a  Moment  Conquers  It,  and 
Paints  It  in  His  Own  Livery 

A  right  swift  messenger  he  had  despatched. 

Like  dust  upon  the  wind  the  herald  sped. 

His  nature  was  of  heat  and  frost  combined, 

The  Persians  called  him  Scatterer  of  the  Leaves ; 

And  when  this  title  was  accorded  not, 

They  called  him  Plucker  of  the  Summer  Leaves. 

The  monarch  August  thus  accosted  him: 

"  Now  hear  my  words  aright,  thou  speedy  one, 

Beget  thee  at  this  instant  to  that  bower. 

And  bring  me  news  of  all  that  thou  shalt  see, 

And  as  thou  flittest  like  a  spirit  free, 

Show  thyself  merciful  to  Gülistan. 

Let  moderation  all  thy  conduct  rule. 

And  gain  the  hearts  of  all  the  country  side. 

Show  not  thyself  a  sudden  blast  of  frost, 

But  first  appear  a  warm  and  sultry  air; 

Begin  to  scatter  round  the  kindly  gold, 

And  happiness  through  power  and  honor  bring. 

As  thyself  thou  art  in  color  rich, 

Scatter  thy  tints  o'er  every  leaf  and  blade." 

As  the  leaf-plucker  heard  the  monarch's  speech 

In  silence  he  departed  on  his  way. 

Quickly  arrived  he  at  the  rose  garden. 

Fulfilling  the  commission  of  his  king. 

He  scattered  light  and  beauty  as  he  went, 

And  everything  he  overlaid  with  gold. 

And  yet  his  bearing  was  not  harsh  or  strict, 


326 


FASLI 

And  he  brought  blessing  whereso'er  he  went. 

He  mingled  in  the  middle  of  the  flowers, 

With  kindly  tenderness  he  played  with  them, 

He  made  inquiry,  as  he  well  was  fit, 

With  his  impetuous  pertinacity. 

And  the  parterres  with  many  a  hue  were  stained. 

Needless  his  operations  to  recount. 

When  he  the  plight  of  the  rose  garden  saw, 

Straight  to  the  King  he  made  a  swift  return. 

Telling  to  him  of  all  that  had  befallen 

Of  good  and  bad  unto  the  rose  garden. 

The  king  at  once  commanded  that  in  arms 

His  cavalry  should  charge  the  garden  realm. 

He  throned  himself  as  monarch  in  the  glade. 

And  all  the  dwellers  there  were  captive  made. 

And  as  his  wont,  to  happy  make  the  world. 

He  scattered  wide  his  gold  on  every  head. 

And  everyone  at  once  grew  rich  in  life, 

And  everyone  a  golden  caftan  wore. 

His  hand  was  full  of  graciousness  and  gift. 

Wherewith  he  strewed  the  land  on  every  side. 

He  gave  them  such  a  mess  of  gold  for  prize 

That  head  to  foot  they  glimmered  with  the  ore. 

And  thereupon  the  master  of  the  realm 

His  manner  altered  in  a  high  degree. 

For  where  his  voice  was  gracious  and  benign, 

He  now  displayed  his  fury  and  his  hate. 

And  all  the  garden  people,  white  with  fear, 

Fell  to  the  earth  o'ermastered  by  alarm. 

And  as  he  was  at  first  both  sweet  and  kind, 

So  now  he  ravaged  with  the  wildest  rage. 

He  flung  the  dwellers  of  the  garden  out. 

The  garden  naked  lay  in  horror  vast. 

He  threw  the  floral  decorations  low. 

The  leaves  and  branches  scattered  o'er  the  sod.  i 

And  as  he  devastated  all  day  long,  | 

And  at  the  last  there  followed  placid  calm. 

And  thus  while  nature's  course  its  way  pursues, 

Quiet  and  peace  result  from  violence. 


■» 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  327 


XLV 

King  Winter  Appears  in  the  East  and  Blows  His  Cold 
Blasts  Over  the  Earth 

The  messenger  upon  his  errand  sped, 

With  chilling  words  his  message  to  convey. 

"  A  king,"  he  said,  "  was  throned  in  the  far  West 

Whose  breath  was  cold,  whose  very  glance  was  frost. 

Chill  was  his  breath  and  chill  his  aspect  drear. 

His  heart  and  every  action  cruelty. 

To  moderation  he  was  deadly  foe. 

And  plagued  the  people  with  his  blasting  frost. 

He  was  a  sovereign  who  prevailed  by  cold, 

King  of  the  world  who  men  as  Winter  knew. 

Soon  as  his  voice  was  heard  amid  the  land 

The  people  shuddered  at  his  fierce  attack; 

His  chilling  breath  could  quench  the  heat  of  hell, 

For  he  was  colder  than  the  touch  of  ice. 

And  as  his  power  could  cool  the  fire  of  hell. 

His  rage  could  change  an  Eden  into  hell. 

For  when  his  breath  was  fiercest,  like  a  fire, 

He  burnt  and  made  men  feel  the  pain  of  hell. 

His  wild,  inconstant,  and  unerring  rage, 

In  ruin  laid  the  elemental  world. 

When  once  his  lance  was  on  the  people  shot 

'Twas  like  a  poker  stirring  up  the  fire. 

And  when  a  householder  his  face  discerned, 

He  swiftly  turned  him  back  into  the  house. 

And  while  his  fury  was  without  restraint, 

He  drove  the  people  to  the  ingle  fire. 

And  so  he  waxed  in  furiousness  of  frost 

That  the  world  lit  its  fires  and  sat  by  them. 

The  streets  were  blocked  by  his  invading  might, 

And  in  the  houses  piles  of  fuel  blazed. 

The  people  in  the  mosques  assembled  thick. 

For  refuge  in  the  blaze  of  altar  fires. 

To  save  herself  from  his  invading  power 

The  rose  garden  became  a  blazing  hearth. 


328  FASLI 

And  yet  he  did  not  spare  his  breath  of  frost, 

But  laid  his  hand  on  Autumn's  kindly  glow. 

And  when  that  monarch  showed  himself  on  earth 

He  ran  him  neck  to  neck  for  victory, 

And  like  a  flood  his  fury  ran  apace. 

And  everything  was  stiffened  in  his  way. 

The  water  curdled  into  solid  ground. 

And  the  world's  eye  was  filled  with  crystal  tears, 

And  each  one  went  about  with  covered  head. 

The  sun  in  heaven  concealed  himself  for  fear. 

The  poor  man  and  the  rich  alike  were  forced 

To  warm  themselves  in  skins  and  cloaks  of  felt. 

And  each  one  of  the  city  elegants 

Wound  round  his  head  a  costly  robe  of  fur. 

In  short,  the  Winter  reigns,  a  king  supreme. 

Throughout  the  period  of  the  dwindling  days, 

And  swift  as  water  hurried  his  commands, 

And  like  the  wind  o'er  every  country  swept. 

While  he  himself  in  sombre  dignity 

Scattered  his  silver  frost  on  every  side. 

His  silver  with  such  lavish  hands  he  spread 

That  house  and  heather  shone  with  silvery  gleams. 


XLVI 

King  Winter  Devastates  the  Rose  Garden 

IN  A  Snowstorm  '■: 

■')' 

And  then  he  gave  command  unto  his  hosts.  ,'; 

"  Make  ready,"  said  he,  "  for  a  long  campaign.  k 

Let  all  our  army  speed  to  rose  garden  ",; 

And  fall  upon  it  with  the  force  of  fire."  '; 

Upon  the  general  a  command  was  laid  'j 

To  overthrow  the  palace  of  the  Rose.  | 

He  stood  at  Winter's  beckoning,  a  slave,  ily 

A  minion,  who  attended  his  command.  | 

He  was  himself  of  Winter's  temperament,  i 

And  in  the  world  he  bore  the  name  of  snow.  ,' 

White  was  he  as  the  crystal  camphor  is,  i;; 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  329 

And  he  was  as  the  crystal  camphor  cold, 

And  he  was  soft  as  cotton  to  the  touch, 

But  chilly  as  the  hardest  cake  of  ice. 

He  was  the  winter's  steadiest  adjutant, 

And  he  was  sent  to  ravage  Gülistan. 

And  straight  he  set  himself  upon  the  way 

To  wage  his  warfare  upon  the  rose  garden. 

And  suddenly  as  is  the  hand  of  fate 

The  snow  came  down  amain  with  fleecy  cloud, 

And  in  one  night  within  the  rose  garden 

Triumphant  reigned  in  valley  and  in  field. 

High  was  it  piled  above  each  arching  roof. 

And  over  all  the  whitening  cloak  was  spread. 

It  threatened  men  and  horses  to  ingulf, 

And  like  a  camphor  shower  enshrouded  all. 

When  Gülistan  this  sad  disaster  saw 

A  reign  of  terror  rose  in  its  domain. 

The  snow  was  seen  to  dance  on  every  roof. 

And  glitter  down  like  swords  and  lances  bright. 

And  as  the  snow  covered  the  woodland  limbs 

The  winter  on  the  garden  settled  down, 

And  all  his  army  in  their  tents  encamped. 

And  the  whole  city  at  their  mercy  lay. 

And  Autumn,  when  of  this  he  was  aware. 

Shuddered  and  shook  like  aspen  foliage. 

Though  he  would  fain  have  entered  on  a  fight, 

He  saw  'twas  vain  to  hope  for  victory. 

At  last,  quite  conquered,  in  retreat  he  fled 

And  sought  his  former  dwelling  and  his  seat. 

But  Winter  still  his  domination  claimed. 

And  sat  enthroned  as  king  in  Gülistan. 

He  gave  command,  "  Let  no  one  from  this  time 

Of  bower  and  garden  pleasance  question  make." 

And  while  he  stayed  there  all  the  rose  garden 

Should  to  a  heap  of  ashes  be  reduced, 

And  he  who  would  be  rash  enough  to  dare 

This  edict  to  decry  and  disobey, 

He  who  should  violate  this  strict  command. 

With  anger  should  be  straightly  visited. 

So  everyone  about  that  place  was  sad. 


330 


FASLI 

And  all  the  place  was  bound  in  bitter  frost. 

And  everyone  who  but  held  out  his  hand 

Was  stripped  and  blighted  like  a  withered  bough, 

And  by  the  direful  tyranny  of  cold 

The  happiness  of  all  the  folk  was  changed. 

And  as  this  destiny  befell  the  glade 

Each  creature  pressed  impetuous  round  the  fire. 

Gray  hairs  and  hair  still  glossy  bright  with  youth 

Pressed  as  to  the  high  altar  round  the  fire. 

Early  and  late  the  fire  burned  round  the  hearth, 

The  fuel  was  as  precious  as  the  flame, 

And  to  give  heat  unto  a  single  hearth 

Was  worth  the  value  of  an  aloe  flower, 

And  those  who  sold  the  fuel  were  in  glee. 

And  the  wood  market  was  a  kingly  realm. 

And  he  who  bore  with  him  a  bag  of  gold 

Was  poorer  than  the  man  who  owned  a  wood. 

In  short,  the  tyrant  cold  was  lord  o'er  all, 

And  each  man  found  his  house  a  prison  cell. 

For  Winter's  mighty  tyrant  reigned  o'er  all, 

And  ravaged  freely  over  all  the  wood. 

He  scattered  silver  with  a  lavish  hand, 

And  all  the  world  in  silver  frost  was  sunk. 

The  cedars  donned  a  silver  coronet. 

And  all  the  garden  wore  a  silver  braid. 

The  very  streams  in  silver  mail  were  clad. 

And  clumps  of  silvery  ice  adorned  their  banks. 

Thus  Winter  made  his  campaign  for  a  time 

Within  the  precincts  of  the  rose  garden. 

But  listen  how  it  happened  at  the  last 

That  he  retired  and  left  the  garden  free. 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  331 


■  XLVII 

The  Monarch  Spring  Retires  to  the  South  to  the  King 
OF  the  Equinox,  From  Whom  He  Asks  Help,  and 
Who  Immediately  Assures  It  to  Him,  and  He  Re- 
turns Therewith  to  the  City  of  Rose  Garden 

O  Nightingale,  whose  voice  is  ever  loud, 

And  ever  sounds  within  the  entrance  hall, 

Of  what  avail  has  been  thy  clamorous  lay, 

For  has  the  hour  of  thy  fruition  come? 

Within  the  cage  thou  must  thy  sojourn  make. 

Who  once  couldst  walk  amid  the  rose  garden. 

Surely  thou  hast  enough  of  suffering  spread, 

And  now  must  still  in  disappointment  pine. 

Thy  flight  has  brought  thee  but  to  contumely, 

Now  to  fruition  spread  thy  eager  wings. 

For  when  misfortune  gains  its  highest  point, 

Relief  is  given  to  the  suffering  one. 

And  all  thy  lamentations,  what  are  they 

Unto  the  Rose  who  laughs  amid  thy  woe? 

He  who  has  drunk  his  full  from  legend's  cup 

Sings  thus,  deep,  low  in  dregs  of  misery. 

And  when  the  king  who  burns  the  world  with  fire. 

And  has  the  happy  August  for  his  name. 

Conquered  the  city  of  the  rose  garden. 

And  subjugated  it  and  held  it  fast 

And  vanquished  all  the  treasures  of  the  Spring, 

To  leave  his  palace  and  his  court  behind. 

The  monarch  Spring,  forsaking  his  estate. 

Fled  to  the  safest  city  of  the  South. 

Many  a  day  with  toil  and  pain  he  rode. 

And  came  at  last  into  a  distant  land. 

In  the  dominion  of  a  mighty  czar. 

Whose  brows  were  crowned  with  buds  of  happiness. 

He  was  a  monarch  of  astounding  might, 

Full  of  munificence  and  mightiness. 

His  noble  bearing  was  with  mildness  formed. 

Gentle  his  mind,  friendlv,  and  delicate. 


332 


FASLI 

For  he  was  born  beneath  auspicious  stars, 

Of  those  high  stars  that  herald  in  the  day. 

A  lord  of  light  was  he,  exalted  high 

From  his  nobility  and  mighty  fame; 

His  happiness  the  world  flooded  with  light, 

His  name  was  called  the  Harbinger  of  Spring. 

Well  was  the  Spring  acquainted  with  this  shah, 

Who  was  direct  descendant  of  his  line. 

And  as  King  Spring  these  tidings  spread  abroad. 

The  Harbinger  of  Spring  the  message  took, 

And  went  to  meet  the  Spring  on  his  approach, 

Giving  him  honor  high  in  every  way. 

The  monarch  who  'mid  gentle  breezes  moved, 

Gave  many  honors  to  the  prince  of  Spring, 

And  as  he  came,  unto  the  throne  drew  near, 

He  took  him  by  his  side  upon  the  throne. 

And  for  one  day  was  feast  and  welcome  held 

In  honor  and  in  glad  festivity. 

And  lo!  among  the  guests  the  question  rose 

What  is  the  true  condition  of  affairs? 

Then  spake  the  monarch,  asking  of  the  Spring, 

Why  he  had  fled  away  from  Gülistan. 

"  How  art  thou  come,"  he  said,  "  and  whither  bound? 

What  has  directed  your  affection  here. 

To  leave  the  garden's  blest  tranquillity, 

And  o'er  the  routes  of  travel  toil  thy  way  ?  " 

So  monarch  Spring  narrated  to  him  all 

That  had  befallen  the  town  of  rose  garden. 

And  how  that  king  who  man  had  August  named 

With  violence  had  overrun  the  land. 

How  he  had  wasted  it  with  furious  flame. 

And  all  the  bowers  of  roses  turned  to  ash ; 

How  Autumn  had  the  spot  to  ruin  brought, 

And  how  black  Winter  devastated  it. 

And  all  that  happened  in  the  rose  garden 

He  told  in  detail  to  the  mighty  shah. 

And  when  the  king  the  dismal  tidings  learnt. 

His  soul  within  him  was  to  fury  turned, 

And  soon  as  monarch  Spring  had  related  all 

The  Harbinger  of  Summer  cried  aloud : 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  333 

"  Lord  of  the  world,  let  naught  confuse  thy  soul, 

Away  with  sorrow  from  thy  anxious  breast ; 

No  longer  shall  thy  patient  mind  be  tried, 

For  there  is  hope  again  for  Gülistan. 

And  if  the  Lord  of  heaven  good  fortune  give, 

Thou  shalt  again  unto  thy  realm  return, 

And  throned  in  power  once  more  in  rose  garden 

Shall  trample  every  foeman  in  the  dust." 

And  when  the  monarch  Spring  this  comfort  heard 

He  seconded  the  promise  with  a  wish, 

And  said :  "  O  king,  thou  art  a  constant  friend. 

And  never  may  misfortune  cross  thy  path. 

Mayst  thou  live  long  in  honor  and  renown. 

And  thy  felicity  be  girt  with  power, 

Soon  as  I  heard  that  lofty  word  of  thine 

Into  my  soul  tranquillity  returned. 

Though  the  campaign  has  devastated  all. 

It  has  not  taken  from  me  all  my  hopes." 

The  Harbinger  of  Spring,  when  this  he  heard, 

In  silence  placed  his  hand  upon  his  brow. 

And  hurriedly  his  preparations  made 

For  a  campaign  toward  the  garden  bower. 

So  that  the  shah  elected  to  this  place 

Might  in  the  bower  of  roses  pitch  his  tent. 


XLVIII 

The  Harbinger  of  Spring  Gains  Possession  of  the  City 
OF  Rose  Garden,  Vanquishes  King  Winter,  and 
Makls  the  Monarch  of  the  Spring  Triumphant 

When  o'er  the  land  the  breath  of  morning  came, 

The  world  was  filled  with  blissful  radiancy. 

The  news  of  fresh  arrivals  filled  the  glade, 

And  the  trees  ranged  themselves  in  serried  ranks. 

And  everything  that  in  the  garden  grew 

Was  seared  and  mildewed  by  the  past  distress. 

And  yet  anew  life's  waters  woke  again, 

And  all  was  tinged  with  Spring's  perennial  green, 


334  FASLI 

Though  all  in  death  had  lain  for  many  a  day, 
Now  living  once  again  they  raised  their  hand, 
And  everything  with  ardent  passion  throbbed. 
And  the  East  Wind  came  by  with  soft  approach, 
And  benediction  followed  on  his  course. 
And  all  the  flowers  their  faces  showed  again, 
And  over  all  the  light  of  summer  shone. 
The  cypresses  wore  garments  of  delight, 
And  danced  in  many  a  ring  along  the  mead 
And  each  narcissus  started  from  its  sleep. 
The  tuHps  raised  again  their  shining  brows, 
And  as  war's  cruel  visage  disappeared 
The  land  again  was  peopled  as  of  yore. 
And  when  King  Winter  in  the  sunlight  saw 
The  people  of  the  land  come  back  again, 
And  that  the  meadows  which  he  had  o'errun 
Were  finally  relinquished  to  the  foe. 
He  was  o'ercome  with  grief  and  shame  and  ire, 
And  heated  by  the  sense  of  his  defeat. 
The  snow,  o'ercome  by  advent  of  the  Spring, 
In  utter  shame  betook  itself  to  earth. 
In  sooth,  already  had  it  drabbled  o'er 
The  rose  garden  with  her  enkindled  wrath. 
For  snow  now  felt  itself  o'ermastered,  weak ; 
His  host  was  overcome  at  every  point. 
And  as  the  snow  dissolved  into  the  ground, 
A  flood  of  tears  was  spread  on  every  field. 
The  Winter  could  no  longer  stand  his  ground. 
And  rapidly  he  started  in  retreat. 
He  turned  him  back  again  toward  the  West, 
And  gave  up  occupancy  of  the  land. 
And  on  the  land  the  light  of  justice  shone 
And  truth  prevailed  and  error  was  abashed. 
And  as  Spring's  herald  occupied  the  land, 
King  Spring  himself  returned  to  claim  his  own. 
He  took  his  seat  once  more  upon  his  throne. 
And  then  his  herald  vanished  from  the  scene. 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  335 


XLIX 

The  Monarch   Spring   Mounts  Upon   His  Throne  and 
Makes  His  Residence  in  the  City  of  the  Rose  Garden 

As  monarch  Spring  now  on  his  radiant  throne 
Flourished,  as  in  the  glorious  days  of  yore, 
He  opened  there  the  treasures  of  his  might, 
And  in  the  dust  he  scattered  radiant  pearls ; 
He  lavished  honors  on  each  denizen, 
And  all  were  clad  in  mantles  of  the  green, 
And  Gülistan  is  once  again  restored ; 
And  grove  and  garden  open  wide  their  hearts, 
And  light  is  shining  in  narcissus'  eyes. 
And  joy  is  in  the  heart  of  all  the  world ; 
The  tulips  don  once  more  their  ruby  crowns ; 
The  glade  of  Gülistan  is  filled  with  flowers ; 
The  cypress  once  again  his  office  takes. 
And  stands  as  porter  at  the  garden  gate. 
And  all  the  lilies  drew  their  swords  again. 
And  every  thorn  whetted  its  arrow  point, 
The  sandbach  opened  out  his  gleaming  rolls 
In  harmony  with  nature's  odorous  life. 
The  tapestry  of  vegetation,  new 
With  satin  green,  the  field  and  fallow  clothed. 
And  all  the  people  of  the  world  repaired 
Into  the  garden  as  a  paradise. 
The  world  from  happiness  an  Eden  grew. 
And  vernal  freshness  sparkled  in  the  Spring. 
The  Rose  ascended  to  her  throne  again. 
The  hyacinth  her  locks  of  purple  wore, 
The  messenger  East  Wind  within  the  grove 
Awoke  to  life  from  out  his  skeleton ; 
And  every  stream  with  ardent  passion  ran, 
And  every  flood  with  towering  head  advanced; 
The  rose  garden  again  its  beauty  takes. 
And  peace  and  quiet  reign  on  every  side. 
And  as  the  Rose  her  lofty  throne  ascends. 
In  ranks  the  nobles  at  her  bidding  come ; 


336 


FASLI 

The  dew  her  favorite  beverage  provides;  - 

The  tulips  in  her  service  goblets  bring, 

And  each  man  drinks  according  to  desire ; 

And  honor  and  good  wishes  follow  wine. 

And  all  the  time  does  festive  gladness  reign, 

By  day  and  night  the  joyous  feast  goes  on. 


The  Fair  Rose  Sends  the  East  Wind  to  Cheer  the 
Mourning  Nightingale 

And  once  upon  this  festal  holiday 

The  Rose  bethought  her  of  the  Nightingale, 

And  said :  "  Where  is  that  miserable  fool 

Who  was  inebriate  with  wine  and  love? 

How  fares  it  with  the  man  of  sighs  and  tears? 

How  can  he  live  dissociate  from  our  grove? 

Shall  we  no  longer  hear  that  lute  of  his? 

What  is  it  that  has  checked  his  thrilling  lay? 

And  has  his  heart  been  snatched  away  by  pain? 

And  was  he  haply  driven  from  grief  to  dust? 

And  has  the  flame  of  absence  burnt  him  up?  û 

And  is  he  slain  by  moody  glance  of  mine? 

Is  it  the  thorn  has  laid  him  suffering  low, 

And  him  enlisted  'mid  my  deadliest  foes  ?  " 

They  said  to  her,  with  salutation  kind : 

"  O  Rose,  the  fairest  paragon  of  charms, 

The  wretch  that  was  impaled  upon  the  thorn 

Has  since  been  prisoner  made  within  a  cage. 

By  night  and  day  behind  the  cage's  bar 

He  sings  aloud  his  melody  of  woe. 

Still  he  laments,  and  all  his  dolorous  song 

Pierces  the  heart  of  hearers  to  the  quick  ; 

And  in  the  dreary  prison-house  enthralled 

Him  no  refreshment  of  delight  consoles." 

And  when  the  tender  Rose  these  tidings  heard, 

She  breathed  a  sigh  over  the  beggar's  lot. 

"  And  shall  the  prisoner,  detained  in  gyves, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  337 

Never  attain  felicity  again  ?  " 

And  full  of  pity,  as  his  rescuer, 

She  called  for  the  East  Wind,  her  messenger, 

And  said :  "  East  Wind,  who  cheerest  every  soul, 

Now  let  thy  breath  upon  that  beggar  blow. 

Find  him,  and  greet  him  wheresoe'er  he  be, 

And  do  him  honor  every  way  thou  canst. 

And  say  to  him,  *  O  heart  with  suffering  full, 

That  without  consolation  feelest  pain. 

How  has  the  pang  of  absence  slain  thy  soul  ? 

What  is  the  blow  that  grief  has  dealt  to  thee  ? 

Thou  art  within  this  narrow  cage  confined, 

And  overcome  with  pain  and  grief  and  fear. 

The  dagger  of  thy  grief  has  pierced  thy  heart; 

The  agony  of  absence  wastes  thy  breast; 

Long  hast  thou  borne  the  languor  absence  brings ; 

'Tis  time  that  thou  should'st  know  fruition's  bliss. 

Though  absence  rages  o'er  thee  like  a  storm. 

Thou  still  art  worthy  of  the  joy  of  love.' 

Go,  my  East  Wind,  and  with  such  words  as  these, 

Seek  to  console  him  with  the  news  of  bliss. 

Absence  no  more  shall  waste  his  mind  away, 

Console  him,  then,  and  bring  back  heart  to  him." 

The  messenger  East  Wind,  when  this  he  heard. 

Answered  "  Long  live  the  Queen,"  and  forth  he  went. 

He  journeyed  wide,  and  everywhere  he  sought 

To  find  where  dwelt  the  mournful  nightingale. 


LI 

The  Pining  Nightingale  Lies  in  Affliction  in  the  Cage 
AND  Turns  Himself  to  God.  The  Kindly  East  Wind 
Arrives  and  Gives  Him  Information  as  to  the  Con- 
dition OF  Affairs 

And  Bulbul  in  the  distance  suffered  pain, 
In  the  hard  strait  of  absence  from  his  love ; 
And  in  the  cage  he  sang  his  dolorous  lay. 
Renouncing  every  hope  of  happiness. 
22 


338  FASLI 

And  in  the  cage  he  stood,  lamenting  loud, 

And  mourning  was  his  orison  of  morn ; 

For  every  morning  did  he  pray  to  God, 

To  send  him  help  in  his  disastrous  plight. 

And  said :  "  O  God !  I  languish  in  the  dust, 

A  prey  to  anguish  in  this  narrow  cage ; 

The  halter  of  estrangement  binds  my  neck; 

Estrangement  from  my  love  fetters  me  here. 

My  soul  within  my  sickening  self  confined 

Is  like  a  wretched  bird  within  a  cage. 

Power  and  unrighteousness  have  dashed  me  down 

Into  one  narrow  corner  of  the  world. 

0  God !     Why  does  not  life  escape  this  cage 
And  find  its  habitation  in  the  stars? 
Sometimes  thou  art  benign  to  mortal  prayer, 
Oh,  set  me  free  from  this  accursed  cage ! 

1  never  cease  to  utter  my  lament. 
For  I  am  slain  by  separation's  pain ; 
And  no  one  listens  to  my  tale  of  woe, 
When  I  lament  upon  my  absent  love. 

And  there  is  no  one  brings  me,  in  my  love, 

The  tidings  that  I  crave  of  my  beloved. 

O  that  the  Queen  would  some  compassion  show, 

And  smile  in  recognition  on  her  slave! 

O  Lord,  I  flee  to  thee  to  gain  thy  help. 

And  upon  thee  my  firm  foundation  place; 

Therefore  I  melt  thy  Spirit  with  my  sighs; 

Thou  canst  not  fail  at  my  petition's  plea. 

O  God,  my  God,  by  all  thy  radiant  light. 

Give  succor  to  me,  leave  me  not  forlorn ! 

Thou  who  the  Author  art  of  things  that  are, 

Open  to  me  the  door  of  my  release." 

As  thus  the  wretched  bird  his  song  pursued. 

The  deity  the  suffering  suppliant  heard ; 

For  when  a  tortured  soul  appeals  to  God 

God  ever  listens  to  his  loud  complaint. 

And  all  the  time  the  Nightingale  was  heard, 

As  is  each  soul  that  prays  with  earnestness. 

The  sufferings  that  round  that  prisoner  rose 

Were  almost  now  unto  their  limit  brought; 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  339 

For  the  East  Wind,  that  cheers  the  souls  of  men, 
Arrived  and  saw  the  Nightingale  encaged, 
And  came  and  said,  "  My  greeting  to  your  Grace," 
And  bowed  his  forehead  to  the  very  dust. 
He  said :  "  How  fares  it  with  thee,  prisoner  ? 
How  is  it  thou  art  prisoned  thus  by  pain  ? 
And  what  transgression  art  thou  guilty  of, 
That  thou  art  thus  imprisoned  in  a  cage? 
Who  is  it  found  thee  guilty  of  a  crime. 
That  to  confinement  thou  hast  been  consigned  ? 
Who  is  it  that  hath  slandered  thee  abroad. 
And  set  thee  thus  behind  the  prison  bar, 
When  thou  in  freedom  findest  such  delight, 
Who  is  it  that  has  tortured  thus  thy  heart? 
How  is  it  thou  art  thus  a  prisoner  found, 
Tormented  with  the  anguish  of  thy  heart? 
Come  back  again  to  glades  of  Gülistan, 
And  let  us  hear  thee  speak  thy  heart's  desire." 


LH 

The  Captive  Nightingale  Answers  the  Kind-hearted 
East  Wind,  Who  Brings  to  the  Pining  Lover 
Greeting  From  the  Radiant  Rose 

Soon  as  the  Nightingale  this  message  heard 

He  was  in  ardent  passion  overwhelmed. 

He  cried  aloud  with  sighs  and  deep  lament; 

"  Hear  me ;  I  will  mv  woe  relate  to  thee. 

I,  a  poor  man,  for  lovingness  atone. 

And  all  the  guilt  is  in  the  jailer  found. 

Love  is  the  only  guilt  that  I  avow, 

This  is  the  cause  of  all  my  sorrows  here. 

While  love  has  thus  enchained  my  inmost  life, 

My  song  alone  the  note  of  freedom  sounds." 

And  the  East  Wind  responded  to  this  speech. 

"  Heroic  sufferer,"  he  replied  to  him, 

"  Torment  thyself  no  more,  the  course  of  love 

At  last  is  tending  to  the  goal  desired ; 


34° 


FASLI 

Long  hast  thou  borne  this  dire  adversity, 

The  hour  of  happiness  at  last  draws  near. 

The  queenly  Rose  her  greeting  sends  to  thee, 

And  makes  the  message  through  this  herald  known ; 

Thy  long-continued  passion  finds  its  end, 

'Tis  time  the  volume  of  thy  pain  be  closed. 

Soon  shalt  thou  from  thy  prison-house  be  freed. 

Lament  no  more,  thy  succor  is  at  hand." 

Then  the  East  Wind  the  pleasant  message  gave, 

With  which  the  Rose  had  sent  him  on  his  way ; 

And  when  the  bird  received  that  sweet  despatch. 

He  fell  to  earth,  quite  overcome  with  joy. 

And  said :  "  Oh,  let  me  know  the  news  she  sends, 

For  it  has  reached  me  in  a  happy  hour ; 

The  hour  in  which  I  fell  to  earth  for  grief. 

There  comes  to  me  the  news  of  happiness." 

And  with  a  thankful  heart  he  thanked  the  Lord ; 

And  to  the  East  Wind  every  blessing  wished. 

And  on  his  backward  way  the  East  Wind  went. 

And  songs  of  thankfulness  the  bird  began. 

And  when  the  East  Wind  reached  the  happy  Rose 

He  said :  "  O  Light  that  glorifiest  the  world. 

The  Nightingale  is  prisoner  in  a  cage; 

The  cage  is  like  a  dungeon  to  the  bird ; 

And  he  is  overwrought  with  love  for  thee; 

And  languishes  amid  the  pangs  of  love. 

His  strains  betray  the  languor  of  his  heart, 

Oft  as  he  breathes  them  on  the  listening  wind. 

And  ofttimes  he  reflects,  that  all  his  life. 

Is  now  surrendered  to  a  narrow  cage ; 

And  soon  his  spirit  will  surrendered  be. 

Unless  the  anguish  of  his  song  be  stilled. 

And  tho'  full  many  a  sufferer  I  have  seen. 

Saw  I  none  ever  in  such  languishment." 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  341 


LIII 

While  the  Nightingale  Lies  a  Prisoner  Suffering  in 
His  Cage,  the  Rose  Comes  to  Pay  Him  a  Sick  Visit, 
AND  TO  Learn  of  His  Health 

And  when  the  Rose  these  tidings  had  received 

She  said :  "  Alas !  him  genius  has  endowed, 

Poor,  wretched  one,  with  melody  of  pain! 

Long  has  he  lived  devoted  to  my  love, 

And  many  pains  and  anguish  has  he  borne 

Because  he  cannot  look  upon  my  face. 

Yet  since  this  mendicant  is  so  forlorn, 

And  so  overwrought  by  his  melodious  pain, 

'Tis  time  that  I  his  disposition  learn, 

And  pay  a  visit  to  the  lonely  one. 

'Tis  duty  bids  us  go  and  cheer  the  sick ; 

And  my  great  duty  now  concerns  this  bird. 

Come,  thou  East  Wind,  that  cheerest  earthly  hearts, 

Point  me  the  way  unto  his  dwelling-place. 

'Tis  thine  to  bring  the  wandering  outcast  joy. 

And  free  him  from  the  barriers  of  the  cage." 

Approvingly  the  Wind  of  East  replied : 

"  Thou,  who,  like  gold,  has  stood  the  test  of  time, 

Long  mayst  thou  all  the  bliss  of  life  enjoy. 

And  in  both  worlds  mayst  thou  find  happiness. 

Now  it  is  time  that  thou  shouldst  yonder  wretch 

Console  in  pity  ere  he  breathe  his  last." 

The  graceful  Rose  straightway  her  journey  took, 

And  to  the  Nightingale  her  course  she  bent. 

And  while  the  Nightingale  his  theme  pursued. 

And  still  in  disappointed  ardor  pined, 

His  heart  swelled  high  with  tidings  of  delight, 

When  all  was  told  him  of  the  Rose's  word. 

With  full  dependence  on  the  grace  of  God, 

He  decked  himself  in  radiant  array, 

And  he  bethought  himself  that  he  would  be 

Like  sunlight  shining  in  the  motes  of  earth ; 

So  should  his  face  the  happy  sunlight  show. 


342 


FASLI 

When  'mid  the  stars  the  day  god  shines  on  high, 

And  day  has  reached  the  zenith  of  the  noon, 

And  the  orbed  moon  with  its  full  radiance  shines. 

And  now  the  Rose  to  visit  him  appeared. 

And  asked  him  the  condition  of  his  life. 

She  saw  him  quite  o'ermastered  and  undone, 

And  all  his  strength  by  adverse  fortune  broken. 

And  when  she  saw  him,  she  astonished  stood, 

And  through  astonishment  was  motionless. 

Soon  as  the  Nightingale  set  eyes  on  her. 

He  recommenced  his  melancholy  song, 

And  fainting,  fell  through  passion  to  the  ground, 

And  motionless  he  lay  from  wounds  of  pain. 

He  closed  his  eyes  and  to  the  dust  he  pressed 

His  cheeks,  by  tears  of  absence  long  grown  pale ; 

While  ardent  passion  through  his  bosom  flamed. 

Like  to  a  suppliant  he  lay  grovelling  there. 

And  said :  "  O  God,  what  dream  is  this  I  see  ? 

Am  I  transported  into  fancy's  realm, 

So  that  the  sun  of  happiness  shines  out. 

And  I  behold  the  lustre  of  the  moon? 

That  happiness  at  last  descends  to  me ; 

And  that  the  moon  her  face  through  tempests  shows; 

That  my  disasters  have  an  end  at  last ; 

That  exile  in  reunion  comes  to  end ; 

That  healing  falls  upon  the  wounds  of  pain ; 

And  that  my  heart  the  balm  of  mercy  meets  ?  " 

While  thus  the  bird  in  languishment  reclined, 

The  Rose  regarded  him  with  tenderness ; 

And  there  was  naught  for  him  but  kindly  thought ; 

In  gentle  pity  opened  out  her  soul. 

And  sweetly  did  she  question  how  he  fared. 

And  how  it  went  with  his  calamities,  | 

And  pity  her  majestic  heart  enthralled,  | 

While  he,  she  saw,  with  ardent  passion  glowed. 

And  while  the  Rose  her  jewels  scattered  round. 

The  Nightingale  gave  utterance  to  his  soul. 

The  bird  sang  loud,  the  flower  lent  listening  ear. 

And  soft  caresses  thus  were  interchanged ; 

And  many  things  were  said  on  either  side, 


» 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  343 

And  when  their  mutual  greetings  closed  at  last. 
And  the  Rose  started  on  her  journey  home, 
The  Nightingale  broke  out  in  strains  of  song. 
And  when  the  well-beloved  had  flown  away, 
The  amorous  bird  cried  after  her  in  vain ; 
And  once  again  began  his  loving  lay. 
Reiterating  echoes  of  his  pain. 
All  his  great  passion  had  come  back  to  him, 
That  momentary  bliss  was  but  a  dream. 
He  said,  in  wanderings  of  wonder  lost, 
"  Whither  has  fled  this  union  sweet  of  bliss  ? 
Oh,  what  a  wondrous  incident  is  this ! 
Hard  to  believe  has  this  occurrence  been ; 
And  since  the  world  is  unsubstantial  show. 
How  is  it  that  to  me  true  suffering  comes  ? 
Where  is  distress,  and  where  is  happiness? 
Where  is  compassion,  what  is  trustworthy? 
And  this  fair  Rose  who  stood  before  my  cage, 
Where  are  the  sweet  caresses  of  my  friend? 
Shall  happiness  return  to  me  through  her? 
Or  was  my  hope  nothing  but  fantasy — 
The  fantasy  of  overwrought  desire — 
That  it  so  quickly  fades  upon  my  sight?" 
And  in  this  plight  the  wretched  singer  gave, 
From  throbbing  throat,  his  call  for  pity's  aid. 


LIV 

The  Lovely  Rose  Sends  the  Cheerful  East  Wind  to  the 
Monarch  of  Spring  Asking  Him  to  Free  the  Night- 

INGAT  e 

Ah,  lovely  Rose,  she  has  a  heart  of  gold, 

And  much  she  mourns  for  the  lorn  Nightingale ; 

And  said  :  "  East  Wind,  my  herald  messenger, 

Blow  thou  my  message  o'er  the  world's  domain, 

I  wish  thee  to  become  my  instrument. 

Through  which  release  and  help  my  bird  shall  ease. 

Ah !  that  the  Bulbul  with  the  open  heart. 

No  more  might  suffer  in  the  deadly  cage! 


344 


FASLI 

Now  show  thy  pity  for  that  wretched  soul, 
And  gain  him  freedom  from  the  iron  bars. 
Betake  thee  to  the  monarch  of  the  world ; 
And  speak  to  him  in  many  a  pleading  word ; 
And  then  occasion  will  be  granted  thee 
The  Bulbul's  dreary  tale  to  tell  to  him. 
And  tell  him  how  the  wretch  in  prison  pines, 
O'erwhelmed  in  suffering  and  misery; 
The  king  will  have  compassion  on  his  lot, 
And  show  his  favor  to  the  destitute. 
He  will  be  just  and  kindly  to  the  bird 
And  willingly  release  him  from  the  cage." 
The  East  Wind  ran  on  hearing  this  command, 
And  quickly  to  the  monarch  took  his  way. 
Upon  the  palace  threshold  laid  him  down, 
And  in  the  dust  his  countenance  he  set. 
His  wishes  and  his  prayer  expressed  to  him, 
In  answer  to  the  royal  questioning. 
And  many  tidings  told  of  this  and  that. 
Till  to  the  end  of  all  his  news  he  came. 
Of  many  things  he  spoke  in  many  ways 
And  information  gave  of  this  and  that. 
And  then  it  happened  that  he  came  at  last 
To  tell  the  story  of  the  Nightingale, 
And  said,  "  O  thou,  the  high  illustrious  one, 
A  king  endowed  with  each  attractive  gift. 
How  is  it  possible  that  in  thy  day 
The  cry  of  guiltless  suffering  should  arise  ? 
That  the  poor  prisoner  in  a  cage  should  pine? 
And  that  the  mighty  should  oppress  the  weak? 
That  night  and  day  the  weak  should  utter  woe, 
And  without  guilt  endure  the  stroke  of  pain? 
That  he  should  lie  in  fetters  and  in  gyves — 
He  whose  sweet  voice  is  ever  eloquent? 
And  is  it  well  that  king  so  just  as  thou 
Should  trample  on  so  innocent  a  wretch? 
That  he  within  the  cage  should  cry  for  help. 
Through  such  a  tedious  period  of  distress  ? 
That  he,  by  night  and  day,  should  make  lament 
And  no  one  listen  to  his  dolorous  song  ?  " 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  345 

When  this  the  lofty  monarch  of  the  world 

Had  heard,  he  said :  "  And  lives  that  beggar  still  ? 

And  is  he  still  imprisoned  in  the  cage, 

Caught  in  the  meshes  of  his  pain  and  woe? 

Now  must  his  sad  imprisonment  have  end. 

Fetch  him  and  let  me  look  upon  his  face." 

Soon  as  the  firman  of  the  Shah  went  forth. 

The  tidings  of  it  reached  the  Nightingale. 

For  one  among  the  courtiers  hurried  forth, 

To  bring  the  hapless  one  to  happiness. 

And  from  the  cage  he  was  at  once  released 

And  brought  into  the  presence  of  the  king. 

And  soon  as  the  celestial  monarch's  eye 

Beheld  the  plight  and  misery  of  the  wretch. 

And  saw  how  vile  and  weak  he  did  appear. 

And  how  he  was  reduced  to  skin  and  bone, 

And  all  forespent  by  separation's  pang, 

And  dwindled  like  the  crescent  of  the  moon. 

He  questioned  him  of  each  particular, 

And  of  his  public  conduct  in  the  past. 

The  Bulbul  called  down  blessings  on  his  head, 

And  in  the  dust  he  bowed  before  his  face ; 

Then  he  ran  on  in  ardent  passion's  tone, 

As  a  gazelle  in  his  swift  circle  turns ; 

From  his  sweet  lips  he  warbled  to  the  Shah 

The  whole  expression  of  his  gifted  heart. 

And  as  his  ardent  trills  and  mournful  notes 

Filled  with  astonishment  the  royal  mind, 

He  owned  him,  in  the  usage  of  his  art, 

A  singer  perfect  of  consummate  skill. 

And  as  the  monarch  listened  to  his  strain, 

He  felt  the  tide  of  pleasure  flood  his  heart, 

And  said :  "  Oh,  what  an  artist  do  I  hear ! 

Well  fit  to  fill  my  bosom  with  delight. 

It  is  injustice  to  this  wretched  man 

To  put  him  pitiless  in  prison  cell, 

Because  forsooth  within  the  rose  garden 

He  sets  himself  as  friend  beside  the  Rose. 

For  since  this  beggar  is  a  very  seer, 

I  think  he  is  companion  for  a  king. 


346  FASLI 

Now  let  the  Nightingale  attend  the  Rose, 
And  let  him  stay  with  her  where'er  she  bide. 
She  has  no  slave  so  faithful  to  her  heart, 
So  let  him  speak  with  her  where'er  she  be." 
And  instantly  the  monarch  gave  command 
Within  the  rose  garden  to  bring  the  bird, 
That  he  might  medicine  and  healing  bring 
To  all  the  suffering  of  the  pining  Rose. 
The  Nightingale  bowed  low  upon  the  ground, 
With  songs  of  benediction  did  he  praise 
The  king,  and  beamed  with  longing  and  desire, 
And  came  at  length  unto  the  rose  garden. 


LV 

The  Gracious  East  Wind  Brings  News  to  the  Rose  of 
THE  Nightingale's  Release 

He  met  the  cypress  and  with  honor  hailed, 

And  courteous  salutation  yielded  him. 

Who  asked  the  Bulbul  whither  he  was  bound, 

And  who  had  given  peace  to  his  desire ; 

And  he  related  to  him  every  jot. 

How  he  had  been  released  from  bitter  pain. 

The  cypress  wore  a  look  of  wonderment. 

Hither  and  thither  did  he  toss  his  head, 

And  said  to  him :  "  At  last,  my  treasured  bird, 

Upon  my  summit  shall  thy  home  be  made." 

So  there  the  cypress  and  the  Nightingale, 

Henceforth  consorted  in  a  friendship  true. 

But  the  East  Wind  had  fluttered  to  the  Rose, 

Swift  as  the  arrow  from  the  bowstring  shot, 

And  in  a  voice  of  joy  his  message  said : 

"  O  Rose,  rejoice!  for  good  the  news  I  bring; 

The  Shah  at  liberty  has  Bulbul  set, 

And  given  happiness  to  the  forlorn," 

And  then  he  told  her  all  that  had  befallen ; 

As  everything  he  had  been  witness  to. 

The  day  was  warm  and  the  Rose  laughed  aloud. 

And  rocked  herself  with  pleasure  'mid  the  leaves. 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  347 

In  haste  she  put  her  crimson  mantle  on, 
And  gave  her  garment,  grateful,  to  the  Wind. 
Into  his  hand  she  placed  a  ruby  gem. 
And  breathed  upon  him  all  her  gracious  scent. 
And  gold  was  strewn  about  the  rose  garden, 
And  all  the  folk  for  dust  walked  over  gold. 
And  the  Rose  bloomed  in  all  her  stateliest  pomp. 
And  laughed  with  joy  in  her  enkindling  heart. 


LVI 

Description  of  the  Morning  Feast  Given  by  the  Lovely 
Rose,  to  Which  She  Asks  the  Nightingale,  and  En- 
joys Herself  With  Him  in  Ardent  Passion  and 
Kindness  and  Pure  Love 

Upon  a  certain  morning,  when  the  day 

O'er  all  the  world  lay  like  an  open  rose. 

When  day  was  bright  with  sweet  fruition's  bliss,    ■ 

And  the  world's  face  was  like  a  rose  fountain, 

When  the  world  opened  like  a  petaled  rose. 

And  folk  like  nightingales  sang  out  for  joy. 

Then  was  it  that  the  Rose,  in  Gülistan, 

Adorned  herself  with  caftan  of  pure  gold. 

Red  was  she  both  without,  and  red  within, 

And  red  the  turban  high  that  crowned  her  brow. 

She  decked  herself  with  gladness  and  with  joy, 

And  o'er  her  shoulders  flung  a  mantle  green. 

And  to  atone  for  all  past  suffering 

She  sends  out  invitations  to  a  feast. 

That  she  may  cheer  with  brightness  troubled  hearts, 

And  fill  their  goblets  with  the  wine  of  joy. 

She  gave  the  tulips  word  of  her  design. 

And  bade  them  crown  with  wine  the  gleaming  cup. 

She  told  the  dew  to  pour  its  sparkling  wine 

Into  the  chalice  of  each  opening  flower. 

She  bade  narcissus  with  his  beaker  full. 

To  show  himself  that  day  a  roysterer. 

And  that  the  cypress  should  before  the  gate 

Stand  seneschal,  awaiting  her  command. 


348  ,  FASLI 

She  saw  the  meadow  carpeted  with  green, 
And  all  new  garmented  the  world  of  flowers. 
The  stately  lily  dropped  her  gleaming  sword, 
And  stood  with  peaceful  mien  beside  her  hearth. 
The  hyacinth  forsook  his  plots  of  ill. 
And  thought  upon  his  rightful  services. 
And  as  the  Rose  this  firman  sent  abroad, 
All  Gülistan  was  decked  for  holiday. 
And  to  the  garden  feast  they  hurried  fast. 
Bent  on  the  recreation  of  their  hearts. 
.     The  Rose  herself,  with  happy  mien,  assumed 
The  place  of  honor  in  the  rose  garden, 
And  all  the  other  nobles  sat  around. 
In  ranks  and  orders  at  the  garden  feast; 
And  the  bright  cup  went  round  from  lip  to  lip ; 
And  each  to  other  pledged  the  beady  wine. 
In  cup  of  virgin  gold,  a  foaming  draught 
The  Rose  with  loving  laughter  drank  to  all. 
And  twice  again  the  ruddy  wine  she  quaffed, 
With  heart  and  eye  fixed  on  the  Nightingale. 
She  saw  that  from  the  circle  of  her  court, 
The  bird,  all  solitary,  sat  aloof. 
And  then  her  veil  she  lifted  from  her  face. 
That  she,  against  her  wont,  might  plain  be  seen ; 
And  said :  "  The  time  for  sorrow  has  gone  by. 
Now  let  each  sufferer  plead  his  cause  to  us. 
Then  wherefore  should  the  Bulbul  sit  apart. 
Rather  than  gladden  with  his  lays  our  feast  ? 
For  now  in  separation's  deadly  night, 
Well  has  he  earned  the  glory  of  the  dawn. 
"  Go,"  to  the  East  Wind  said  she,  "  bring  to  me 
That  mourning  minstrel  for  this  festal  hour." 
The  East  Wind,  nourisher  of  all  that  lives. 
Well  knew  the  goodness  of  the  princess'  heart; 
And  thus  he  spoke  unto  the  Nightingale : 
"  O  sorrow  singer,  let  thy  lot  be  bliss. 
The  Rose,  who  greets  thee  now  with  kindliness, 
Invites  thee  to  her  festal  gathering ; 
O  Bulbul,  now  distress  thyself  no  more, 
For  thou  hast  reached  the  goal  of  thy  desire." 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  349 

And  as  these  words  the  pining  Bulbul  heard, 

He  turned  himself  to  God  with  thankful  heart. 

At  last  he  came,  with  many  a  tender  thought, 

Unto  the  festival  the  Rose  ordained. 

The  Rose  all  honor  did  him  in  her  power ; 

And  took  him  to  herself  to  cherish  him. 

And  said,  "  Ah,  sad  one,  what  has  pained  thee  now  ? 

Thou  art  for  all  thy  absence  now  consoled. 

And  now  it  is  ordained  by  happy  fate. 

That  I  should  give  to  thee  a  Httle  pledge. 

My  flight  has  put  thy  song  quite  out  of  tune. 

And  turned  aside  the  music  of  thy  song. 

Now  let  thyself  no  longer  rove  away, 

For  thou  canst  rightly  linger  here  a  while ; 

For  all  the  sickness  I  have  caused  to  thee, 

A  thousand  faithful  pledges  be  returned. 

It  is  the  custom  of  the  beauteous  one, 

That  she  should  crown  affliction  with  her  trust." 

As  to  the  Nightingale  these  gracious  words 

Were  in  caressing  accents  thus  addressed. 

He  charged  himself  with  fault  a  thousand  times. 

And  mute  he  stood,  and  weak  and  tottering. 

He  said  :  "  The  word  that  falls  from  thee  is  good, 

And  trust  that  follows  after  suffering 

Is  good,  and  what  thou  doest  is  well  done. 

For  above  all  a  loving  sweetheart  stands ; 

And  I  have  shed  my  blood  for  love  of  thee. 

And  shouldst  thou  slay  me  I  would  not  complain. 

For  thee,  the  breath  of  life  within  me  heaves, 

E'en  separation  as  delight  I  hail." 

'Twas  thus  the  Rose  and  Nightingale  beguiled 

The  time  in  conversation  amorous. 

Then  they  began  to  quafif  the  ruddy  wine ; 

And  many  a  goblet  sparkled  to  the  brim. 

Draughts  of  the  rosy-tinted  wine  they  took. 

And  in  the  feast  the  pastoral  pipes  were  heard, 

And  Bulbul  his  clear  notes  with  ardor  poured. 

They  rang  through  all  the  ranks  of  Gülistan, 

Like  some  sweet  lute  they  floated  on  the  air. 

And  oft  in  loudest  trills  they  burst  like  flame. 


350  FASLI 

His  look  was  fixed  upon  the  lustrous  Rose, 
In  ardent  longing  soft  as  a  caress. 
Now  his  love  burst  in  flame  like  aloe  flowers ; 
And  in  his  glowing  song  he  uttered  sighs. 
Although  made  happy  by  his  keen  delight, 
He  still  in  sighs  the  longed-for  kisses  craved. 
With  golden  draughts  the  goblet  oft  was  filled, 
But  kisses  were  the  sugar  in  the  cup. 
For  while  the  bird  began  to  sip  the  wine, 
He  stole  a  kiss  from  the  fair  Rose's  lips ; 
Warmer  and  warmer  with  the  feast  he  grew. 
With  hearts  quite  melted  went  they  arm  in  arm, 
And  as  the  liquor  mounted  to  his  brain 
The  banqueter  lay  senseless  on  the  ground. 
And  the  glass  circled  round  amid  the  feast. 
Till  heaven  its  circuit  had  to  evening  brought. 


Lvn 

The  Description  of  the  Night  and  the  Night-long  Revel 
Amid  the  Sound  of  Trumpets  and  Castanets 

And  when  the  day  dissolved  the  company, 

The  feast  renewed  itself  through  all  the  night. 

Soon  as  in  heaven  the  constellations  bright. 

Assembled  round  the  moon,  their  empress  queen. 

The  stars  that  fluttering  like  butterflies. 

Were  gathered  in  the  palace  of  the  moon, 

So  gathered  nobles  in  the  rose  garden, 

With  friendship  and  with  pledging  of  the  wine. 

And  now  the  Rose  was  filled  with  wild  desire. 

The  Nightingale  his  loveliest  chanson  poured. 

And  the  narcissus  lit  his  golden  lamps. 

And  brightened  all  the  spaces  of  the  grove, 

And  the  glass  circled  'mid  the  merry  throng. 

And  lute  and  castanet  their  music  made. 

The  flutes  with  their  shrill  notes  began  to  sound. 

Commingled  with  the  tinkling  tambourine. 

And  round  in  rank  on  rank  the  flowers  were  ranged. 

Buds  blew  the  horn,  and  roses  beat  the  drum. 


I 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  351 

The  very  violets  in  the  music  joined. 

While  all  the  larch-trees  rustled  in  accord. 

Narcissus  beat  the  drum  with  thundering  note, 

Through  the  whole  rout  the  pattering  tomtom  rang, 

The  lilies  took  the  hautboys  in  their  hands, 

The  tulips  blew  their  bagpipes,  and  each  played 

On  every  side  the  instrument  he  chose, 

And  so  the  merry  concert  filled  the  groves. 

The  cypress  led  the  dance  at  his  own  will, 

His  step  kept  time  to  the  musician's  note, 

And  the  East  Wind  sighed  softly  over  all, 

Amid  the  clangor  of  the  flute  and  horn. 

And  so  the  revel  sounded  deep  and  high 

As  flutes,  or  dying  harmonies  ordained. 

And  clamor  filled  with  shouts  the  rose  garden, 

And  all  the  city  rang  to  beat  of  drum. 

And  drowsy  fumes  of  wine  made  tottering  feet. 

The  red  from  many  a  lip  was  kissed  away. 

The  Nightingale  is  drunk  for  happiness. 

Sunk  in  the  melody  of  his  desire. 

He  thinks  upon  the  lips  of  her  he  loves. 

And  ceases  not  to  sip  the  ruddy  wine. 

And  the  Rose  blushes  as  she  pledges  him. 

And  all  his  keen  desire  she  turns  to  bliss. 

And  tender  protestations  there  are  heard, 

And  happy  pledges  are  between  them  made. 

And  love  from  both  sides  breathes  its  scented  breath, 

And  the  sweet  pang  of  passion  fills  that  hour, 

And  not  a  cloud  was  in  the  placid  sky. 

The  lover  stood  possessed  of  his  beloved. 

And  ever  higher  mantled  pleasure's  tide, 

Till  all  the  consciousness  of  life  was  lost. 

The  Rose  and  Nightingale  together  there, 

In  undisturbed  communion  abode. 

And  many  a  word  of  tenderness  they  spoke, 

Threading  in  speech  the  mazes  of  their  love. 

Propitious  was  the  opportunity. 

They  were  united  ne'er  to  be  divorced. 

The  lover  and  the  object  of  his  love 

Were  rendered  one  in  passion's  glowing  hour. 


352  FASLI 

The  dance  of  love  went  on  till  morning  light, 
The  feast  of  passion  lasted  till  the  dawn. 
No  sleep  their  eyelids  closed,  and  till  the  morn 
They  ceased  not  quaffing  of  the  ruby  wine. 


LVIII 

The  Happiness  of  the  Rose  and  Nightingale  Does  Not 

Continue 

And  in  this  wise  for  many  and  many  a  day, 
The  Rose  and  Nightingale  held  festival. 
Until  the  furious  cruelty  of  fate 
Turned  all  their  love  to  abject  misery. 
The  Rose  became  the  prey  of  every  wind. 
The  Nightingale  fell  headlong  in  the  dust, 
The  course  of  fate  ordained  for  them  to  drink 
The  cup  of  desolation  to  the  dregs. 
Those  upon  whom  companion's  smile  is  turned. 
Are  never  infinitely  destitute. 
And  this  too  treacherous  world  betrays  us  all. 
With  craft  and  the  sharp  edge  of  trickery. 
And  when  the  dish  gives  honey  to  our  lips, 
A  deadly  poison  lurks  within  the  bowl. 
And  if  we  trust  one  moment  to  a  cup 
It  kills  us  till  the  blood  in  torrents  flows. 
When  did  two  days  award  an  equal  calm 
But  that  distress  did  not  the  next  ensue  ? 
When  was  it  that  the  highest  bliss  was  given. 
But  that  at  last  there  followed  misery  ? 
The  treasure  is  a  snake,  the  gold  but  dross. 
Their  grace  a  fading  leaf,  their  balm  is  blight, 
And  pain  is  but  the  sequel  of  delight. 
Their  life  to  nothing  but  a  vapor  turns. 
Darius,  Alexander,  where  are  they, 
Who  once  were  conquerors  of  every  land? 
For  both  of  them  at  last  exchanged  for  grief. 
For  grief  of  death,  the  glory  of  their  life. 
Where  is  the  sovereign  Solomon,  whose  throne 
From  peak  to  peak  of  Caucasus  was  set, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE  353 

He  whose  high  throne  was  sport  to  every  wind, 

To  waft  it  as  it  wished  to  every  pole  ? 

At  last  the  wind  bore  off  the  lofty  throne, 

And  Solomon  to-day  is  but  a  name. 

Where  is  Schamshid,  through  whose  profound  design 

The  world  was  moulded  into  living  form? 

But  even  his  genius  vanished  in  the  wind. 

And  suddenly  he  mouldered  into  dust. 

Where  now  is  he,  the  Lord  of  all  the  world. 

The  lord  of  lords,  illustrious  Feridun  ? 

He  also  to  the  spoiler  yields  his  power, 

Flung  to  the  ground  to  mingle  with  the  dust. 

Still  in  this  house  there  lingers  only  one. 

The  everlasting,  everliving  God. 

This  world  has  but  two  portals,  which  indeed 

Are  separated  from  each  other  far, 

For  by  one  door  man  enters  to  the  house, 

And  by  the  other  he  an  exit  makes. 

Who  in  this  house  forever  gladly  stays. 

From  which  the  very  Prophet  took  his  flight? 

And  since  he  never  lingered  in  this  house, 

How  canst  thou  think  eternal  there  thy  lot? 

What  is  the  world,  O  Fasli,  but  an  inn 

Where  caravans  halt  only  for  night  ? 

Put  not  thy  trust,  then,  in  its  permanence. 

For  ambush  ever  lies  in  wait  for  it. 

Distrust  it,  then,  for  it  can  ne'er  endure, 

Despise  it,  for  it  has  no  help  for  thee. 


LIX 

Declaration  of  the  Hidden  Meaning  Which  for  the 
Mystic  Lies  in  This  True  History  and  Mournful 
Narrative 

Thou  who  hast  on  these  pages  fixed  thine  eyes, 
If  there  is  any  knowledge  in  thy  mind. 
Look  not  on  these  events  as  idle  tales. 
For  in  the  words  a  meaning  there  abides. 
23 


354 


FASLI 

And  what  from  idle  tales  can  come  of  good, 

Unless  some  meaning  there  be  hid  in  them  ? 

Some  doctrine  from  a  fable  often  comes, 

So  idle  tales  are  often  profitless. 

And  hence  the  hidden  sense  of  history 

Declares  the  sequel  both  to  me  and  thee. 

For  now  when  to  an  end  the  story  comes, 

Thou  needs  must  learn  the  lesson  of  the  tale. 

The  Shah,  the  radiant  monarch  of  the  Spring, 

Is  intellect  that  bides  for  evermore. 

The  Rose,  which  is  the  daughter  of  the  Shah, 

Is  genius,  offspring  of  the  intellect. 

The  city  which  is  named  the  rose  garden 

Is  life  when  spent  on  beds  of  luxury. 

The  Nightingale  upon  the  rose  parterre 

The  human  heart,  which  after  genius  longs. 

The  heart  by  genius  is  perfected. 

And  therefore  is  of  genius  amorous. 

The  East  Wind  is  the  breath  of  suffering, 

Which  ever  blows  between  the  heart  and  soul.  i 

And  the  clear  vision  which  in  life  abides 

Is  the  narcissus  in  the  rose  parterre. 

The  tulip,  in  a  circle  bends  its  cup, — 

'Tis  friendship  with  its  tender-heartedness. 

The  cypress,  I  would  fain  expound  to  you. 

Is  the  free  symbol  of  integrity. 

The  rivulet  is  purity  of  soul. 

Wherein  the  well-beloved  is  mirrored  clear. 

And  in  the  dew  which  serves  the  flowers  for  wine 

Is  seen  the  shining  tenderness  of  God. 

What  is  the  lily  else  but  bravery  ? 

The  violet  is  loveliness  of  heart. 

The  hyacinth  is  bitter  jealousy, 

The  thorn  is  anger  which  estranges  all. 

And  that  which  Summer  I  and  Winter  call, 

Must  also  have  a  double  sense  to  thee. 

For  one  brings  many  blessings  to  thy  life. 

The  other  desolates  this  world  of  ours ; 

And  on  the  character  of  each  of  these  ^ 

All  of  the  year's  vicissitudes  depend. 


THE   ROSE    AND   THE    NIGHTINGALE 


355 


The  one  is  strong  as  anger  in  its  day, 

And  with  it  carries  off  the  strength  of  man ; 

For  man  when  fiery  ardor  rules  the  sky 

Finds  all  his  life  with  flames  of  heat  consumed. 

And  this  is  August  burning  like  a  brand, 

Which  desolates  the  city  of  the  soul. 

Thus  will  be  clear  to  thee  how  any  fire 

Destroys  the  happiness  of  monarch  Spring. 

So  soon  as  suffering  seizes  on  the  life 

It  overcomes  the  soul  and  intellect. 

For  intellect  its  offfce  fails  to  fill, 

So  anger  has  with  all  things  laid  it  waste. 

The  other  source  of  strength  is  love  of  kind, 

Which  always  brings  a  blessing  in  its  train. 

Its  action  is  to  deepen  graciousness, 

And  give  new  color  to  the  sense  of  life. 

And  so  I  name  it  Autumn :  well  is  known 

Its  character  as  separate  and  distinct — 

Since  rage  and  passion  then  are  satisfied. 

And  life  into  a  mellow  twilight  comes. 

While  all  the  time  nature  in  calm  decay 

Is  like  the  chill  of  man's  declining  day 

And  thus  the  king  of  winter  seems  at  lasx 

The  human  life  and  spirit  to  usurp. 

The  king  who  does  the  rose  garden  restore 

Is  but  the  light  and  health  that  clears  man's  soul. 

Anger  and  passion  both  give  way  to  him, 

And  God's  own  light  at  last  pours  blessing  down. 

This  king  brings  help  to  heart  and  intellect, 

And  takes  possession  of  the  whole  domain. 

He  frees  the  spirit  from  the  charge  of  sense, 

And  widens  out  the  prospect  of  the  soul; 

Then  heart  and  spirit  in  a  kiss  unite, 

The  bridal  of  the  Rose  and  Nightingale. 


356  FASLI 


LX 

The  Close  of  the  Book 

Thank  God,  these  pages,  numbered  to  the  full, 

Are  pleasant  as  the  petals  of  a  Rose ; 

Where  genius  is  as  the  Nightingale, 

And  plucks  them  ardently  from  off  the  flower. 

'Tis  genius  blent  the  sweets  of  Gülistan, 

Tinting  narcissus'  cheeks  with  fresher  hue. 

Each  verse  is  like  a  gayly-painted  rose. 

And  Bulbul  is  the  guardian  of  the  grove. 

The  letters  like  to  cedars  stand  in  line, 

The  lines  run  o'er  the  page  like  rivulets. 

The  words  like  rank  and  file  their  order  take, 

The  sense  is  as  the  diamond  in  the  mine. 

And  thus  the  poet  has  prepared  for  you 

A  feast  of  tenderness,  a  dainty  feast, 

A  bosom  book  of  the  sublimest  lore. 

Which  all  the  world  will  welcome  with  delight. 

The  book  towers  up  like  some  tall  monument, 

And  every  verse  of  it  is  Eden's  door. 

And  I  have  put  a  meaning  under  it, 

Which  is  the  Gülistan  of  its  fair  words. 

It  sprang  from  out  the  well  of  my  pure  wit, 

My  genius  is  enthroned  on  its  renown, 

'Tis  I  who  clothed  the  legend  in  these  words, 

The  language  and  the  meaning  both  are  mine. 

And  in  this  legend  there  is  naught  of  guile. 

My  taper's  light  no  ignis  fatinis, 

And  he  who  sees  the  symbol  will  esteem. 

The  book  from  title-page  to  colophon. 

I  borrowed  no  man's  phrases  and  I  trod 

No  path  that  had  been  trodden  hitherto. 

Forth  from  the  portal  of  my  intellect 

There  streamed  the  words  of  evil  and  of  good. 

And  many  a  lovely  lay  have  I  composed 

From  the  sad  music  of  the  Nightingale. 

So  that  this  book,  so  fascinating  fair, 


THE   ROSE   AND   THE   NIGHTINGALE  357 

Will  by  the  fair  ever  be  beloved. 

I  hope  that  God  the  volume  will  protect, 

And  keep  it  safe  from  misadventures  twain. 

First  from  a  critic  ignorant  and  dull, 

Who  like  a  mule  the  poet  tramples  down, 

A  critic  without  intellect  and  sense, 

Who  cannot  see  the  meaning  of  the  words, 

But  twists  the  sense  of  every  graceful  line, 

And  does  not  hear  the  music  in  the  verse. 

One  point  he  dwells  on,  to  another  blind. 

And  mixes  up  the  poetry  and  prose. 

Presumes  himself  to  boast  poetic  fire, 

And  to  set  right  a  hundred  lines  of  mine. 

Then  from  the  writer  who,  like  one  bewitched, 

Does  naught  but  blot  each  blemish  in  the  book. 

He  scores  the  book  with  blots  as  with  a  cloak. 

And  all  its  beauties  in  concealment  keeps. 

He  sticks  his  mark  where  is  no  need  of  it. 

And  blunders  every  time  he  would  correct ; 

His  criticism  should  be  criticised, 

And  his  misuse  of  language  makes  me  smile, 

Even  misspelling  he  is  guilty  of. 

His  very  letters  does  he  scarcely  know, 

His  very  pen  itself  cannot  run  straight. 

His  knotted  fingers  scarce  can  hold  the  pen. 

Now,  Fasli,  comes  at  length  thy  poem's  end. 

Thank  God  for  all  the  beauty  of  thy  lays. 

Leave  poetry  and  turn  thy  mind  to  God, 

And  thank  him  thou  hast  reached  the  colophon. 

Thy  book  is  one  of  happiness  and  bliss, 

1-n.  lovers'  bosoms  it  will  oft  be  borne. 

And  now  the  numbered  verses  thus  conclude 

The  story  of  the  Rose  and  Nightingale. 


CHOICE   EXAMPLES   OF   PALEOGRAPHY. 

Fac-similes  from  Rare  and  Curious  Manuscripts  of  the 

Middle  Ages. 


PAGE  FROM   THE  PANDECTS   OF  JUSTINIAN. 

Latin  manuscript  of  the  Sixth  Century, 

The  manuscript  from  which  this  page  is  reproduced  was  executed  at  Constanti- 
nople, and  was  brought  to  Amalfi  in  Italy  at  some  unknown  date.  The  evidence 
afforded  by  the  character  of  the  script — the  abbreviations,  the  suppressions  of  single 
letters,  and  other  traits — determines  its  date  to  be  but  little  later  than  the  death  of 
Justinian  (565).  This  manuscript,  from  its  antiquity  and  the  clarity  of  its  execution, 
has  always  been  the  court  of  last  resort  for  scholars  on  questions  affecting  the  purity 
of  the  text. 


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3  J  J ' »  > 


HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY    VEZIRS 


HISTORY  OF  THE  FORTY  VEZIRS 


INTRODUCTION 

IT  is  related  that  the  wife  of  a  great  king  unjustly  ac- 
cused his  son,  by  another  mother,  of  an  act  of  treachery 
against  his  father ;  and  that  that  king  was  wroth,  and 
for  forty  mornings  caused  his  son  to  be  led  forth  to  be  slain ; 
and  that  that  king  had  many  vezirs,  all  of  whom  were  peer- 
less in  the  sea  of  understanding,  and  in  thoughtfulness  and 
sagacity,  and  full  of  plans  and  devices ;  and  that  when  the 
king  each  morning  caused  his  son  to  be  led  forth  for  execu- 
tion, these  vezirs  gave  the  king  counsel,  and  each  morning 
a  vezir,  telling  a  story,  calmed  the  king's  heart  and  turned 
away  his  wrath,  and  saved  the  prince  from  his  hand ;  and 
again,  that  each  night  that  crafty  lady,  letting  not  the  king 
rest,  ever  incited  him  to  the  slaughter  of  the  prince,  and  with 
enticing  and  beguiling  words,  repeated  each  night  a  story 
to  the  king,  and  made  his  understanding  forsake  him;  and 
that  through  the  words  of  that  crafty  lady,  every  morning 
for  forty  days  he  caused  his  son  to  be  led  into  his  presence 
to  be  slain ;  and  that  the  vezirs  by  telling  a  story  delivered 
him.  After  forty  days  the  innocence  of  the  prince  was  mani- 
fested and  the  falsehood  and  calumny  of  the  crafty  lady  dis- 
closed ;  and  she  received  her  due,  and  the  prince  was  greatly 
loved  and  esteemed  before  his  father  when  the  truth  of  his  affair 
was  known.  The  adventures  of  the  king,  and  the  lady  and  the 
prince,  and  his  governor  and  the  vezirs,  and  what  befell  be- 
tween them,  will  be  related ;  and  sixteen  of  the  stories  told 
by  the  vezirs  in  the  forty  days,  and  by  the  lady  in  the  forty 
nights  will  be  set  forth  and  narrated.  "  With  God  is  grace : 
how  excellent  a  friend  is  he !  " 

361 


362  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY    VEZIRS 

They  tell  in  history  books,  that  there  was  in  Persia  a  great 
king,  whose  name  was  Khanqin,  and  in  the  grasp  of  whose 
possession  were  the  Seven  Climes.  As  he  was  gracious  and 
able  and  sagacious,  kingliness  and  the  bases  of  empire  were 
present  in  him.  God  most  high  had  give  him  a  fair  son,  by 
whose  beauty  the  people  of  the  world  were  bewildered.  Who- 
soever looked  upon  his  loveliness  would  say,  "  Is  it  magic, 
this  ? "  ^  and  he  who  beheld  his  tall  figure  would  exclaim, 
"  This  is  no  mortal !  "  ^  Fair  was  his  beauty  and  charming  was 
his  self,  and  desired  of  lovers.  Moreover,  his  were  accom- 
plishments and  perfections ;  he  had  no  rival  in  the  reading  of 
science,  or  in  penmanship,  or  in  archery,  or  in  horsemanship; 
and  his  fair  character  was  talked  of  and  celebrated  among 
high  and  low.  The  king,  too,  whenever  he  saw  him,  experi- 
enced a  hundred  thousand  pleasures,  and  looked  upon  him 
as  the  source  of  his  life.  The  mother  of  this  youth  was 
of  the  lovely  ones  of  China.^  One  day  she  fell  ill,  and  at 
length,  no  remedy  availing,  she  was  received  into  Mercy, 
Thereupon,  after  some  time  had  passed,  his  father  mar- 
ried the  daughter  of  a  great  king  and  brought  her  to  his 
palace. 

After  a  while  this  lady  fell  in  love  with  the  prince.  For  a 
long  time  she  hid  her  love  in  her  heart,  and,  saying  in  herself, 
"  He  is  my  step-son,  what  help  for  it !  "  she  disclosed  it  not. 
But  when,  day  after  day,  she  looked  upon  his  beauty,  she  was 
no  longer  able  to  bear  with  patience  the  fire  of  love,  and,  bring- 
ing into  the  field  the  wallet  of  craft,  she  was  busy  night  and 
day  with  stratagems.  Now  the  king  had  given  the  prince 
to  a  governor  to  be  taught  the  sciences  of  astronomy  and 
astrology,  and  the  boy  was  night  and  day  occupied  acquiring 
them.  One  day  the  governor  looked  at  the  youth's  horoscope, 
and  perceived  there  was  a  space  of  forty  days  in  most  sinister 
aspect.  Did  he  say  a  word  about  this,  he  would  be  pointing 
out  a  great  calamity ;  so  he  was  exceeding  grieved,  and  his 
heart  was  contracted.  But  he  said  to  the  prince,  "  I  have  this 
day  looked  at  thy  horoscope  and  seen  a  most  sinister  aspect ; 
such  is  it,  my  life,*  that  thou  must  obey  the  command  and 

^  Koran,  Hi.   15.  Tartary  being  regarded  as  pre-eminent 

^  lb.    xii.    31.  for  the  beauty  of  their  women. 

'  Not    necessarily    a    Chinese  woman,  *  A   term   of   endearment, 

simply    a    beauty;    China    and  Chinese 


INTRODUCTION  363 

decree  of  God  most  high,  and  observe  my  injunction,  else 
thou  shalt  die." 

The  prince  heard  these  words  of  his  governor  and  his  color 
changed,  and  he  said  to  his  teacher,  "  Order  what  thou  wilt : 
command  is  thine."  Quoth  the  teacher,  "  O  son,  the  way  of 
averting  this  calamity  is  thus  stated  in  the  book :  for  the  space 
of  forty  days  thou  shalt  not  speak  one  word  though  a  naked 
sword  be  above  thy  head."  Then  he  bade  the  prince  bear  in 
mind  certain  of  the  holy  names  and  blessed  litanies,  and  sent 
him  to  his  father.  The  governor  thereupon  hid  in  a  vault  and 
concealed  himself.^  When  the  prince  came  to  his  father,  the 
latter  said  to  him,  "  My  son,  what  hast  thou  read  and  writ- 
ten this  day  ?  "  but  the  prince  gave  no  answer  to  his  father. 
Again  quoth  the  king,  "  O  my  life,  what  does  thy  master  ?  " 
again  he  gave  no  answer.  Again  his  father  said,  "  O  life  of 
my  life,  what  has  befallen  thee  ?  Why  dost  thou  not  speak  ?  " 
Again  he  gave  no  answer.  Then  said  the  king  to  his  son's 
guardian,  "  The  boy  is  sad  to-day,  take  him  to  his  mother, 
maybe  that  his  heart  will  expand."  Then  the  guardian  took 
the  youth  to  the  lady  and  said,  "  Lady,  this  youth  is  sad,  he 
has  not  uttered  one  syllable  to  his  father  this  day,  therefore 
has  he  sent  him  to  thee,  that  peradventure  he  may  speak  beside 
his  mother."  The  lady  was  glad  and  said,  "  Clear  the  house, 
go,  be  off ;  that  I  may  learn  somewhat  of  the  prince,  and  ban- 
ish his  sadness  and  grief." 

When  she  was  alone  with  the  youth  the  lady  threw  her  arm 
round  his  neck,  and  said,  "  O  my  life,  ah,  my  lord,  what  has 
befallen  thee  that  thy  heart  is  thus  sad,  and  that  thou  art  dis- 
consolate and  mournful?  Whatever  thy  father  possesses  is  in 
my  hand ;  if  thou  wilt  make  thy  heart  one  with  mine,  and 
act  according  to  my  words,  I  will  turn  away  thy  sadness."  To 
her  too  the  prince  gave  no  answer.  Again  said  the  lady,  "  Thou 
art  a  grown-up  youth,  I  too  am  a  young  lady ;  thy  father  is 
a  decrepit  old  man,  with  neither  thought  nor  discernment ;  if 
thou  wilt  assure  me,  and  swear  to  me,  and  accept  me  as  thy 
legal  wife.  I  will  make  shift  to  kill  thy  father  and  make  thee 
king  in  his  stead.  First,  I  swear  by  God,  and  for  God,  and 
in  God,  that  I  speak  these  words  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart 

^  Probably  he  was  afraid  lest  the  king  should  put  him  to  death  for  giving  such 
bad  news. 


364  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

and  from  my  very  soul,  and  that  I  will  not  falsify  these  words ; 
do  thou  likewise  assure  me,  and  swear  to  me  that  I  may  act 
accordingly."    The  prince  answered  not  a  word. 

Quoth  the  lady,  "  O  dearer  than  my  life,  should  thou  ask 
how  I  will  kill  thy  father ;  lo,  in  the  treasury  are  many  kinds 
of  poisons,  of  one  of  which  if  a  person  eat,  he  turns  ill  and 
after  three  months  dies.  The  people  will  not  know  the  cause 
of  his  death,  and  will  not  suspect  that  he  has  eaten  poison. 
They  will  say  he  but  took  ill,  and  will  doubtless  make  thee 
king.  Should  thou  say  I  am  thy  step-mother  and  wonder  how 
thou  art  to  marry  me,  the  way  is  this :  send  me  off  to  my  own 
country,  and  while  yet  on  the  road,  send  someone  after  me 
who  shall  come  in  the  guise  of  a  robber  and  pounce  upon  us 
by  night  and  seize  me ;  so  it  will  be  said  that  robbers  have 
seized  me.  Then  buy  me  as  a  slave  girl  from  that  man,  and 
make  me  thy  wife ;  so  none  will  know."  But  the  prince  an- 
swered her  not  at  all,  and  spake  not.  Then  the  lady  grew  des- 
perate at  his  not  speaking,  and  her  patience  was  exhausted, 
and  she  said,  "  O  my  soul,  O  my  gliding  angel,  why  wilt  thou 
not  speak  to  me  ?  "  And  she  put  her  arm  round  his  neck  and 
drew  him  to  her  and  made  to  kiss  him.  And  the  prince  was 
wroth,  and  he  smote  the  lady's  mouth  with  the  back  of  his 
hand,  so  that  her  mouth  filled  with  blood. 

When  she  saw  this  conduct  the  fire  of  anger  blazed  up  in 
the  hearth  of  her  breast,  and  the  sparks  from  the  fumes  of 
her  pride  gained  her  heart,  and  she  cried,  '*  Out  on  thee !  fool ! 
boy !  I  sought  to  raise  thee  to  the  throne  and  make  thee  king, 
and  thou  didst  strike  me  thus ;  now  will  I  speak  to  thy  father 
that  he  shall  hew  thee  in  pieces,  small  even  as  thine  ear."  And 
she  dishevelled  her  hair  and  smeared  the  four  sides  of  her 
robe  with  the  blood  of  her  mouth  and  sat  down,  sad  and  tear- 
ful, feeble  and  wailing.  Then  the  youth  went  to  his  private 
apartments.  After  a  time  the  king  came  to  the  harem,  think- 
ing to  inquire  of  the  lady  concerning  the  affair  of  the  prince, 
and  he  saw  her  seated  besmeared  with  red  blood.  And  the 
king  marvelled  at  this  sight,  and  said  to  the  lady,  "  What  is 
this  matter?  explain  to  me."  She  said,  "  O  king,  that  degen- 
erate son  of  thine !  God  forbid  that  he  be  son  of  thine !  " 
"What  is  the  matter?"  said  the  king. 

The  lady  replied,  "  I  saw  that  degenerate  youth  that  he  was 


INTRODUCTION  365 

sad,  and  I  cleared  the  palace  that  I  might  banish  his  sadness, 
and  I  said  to  him,  'My  son,  why  art  thou  sad?'  Then  he 
stretched  forth  his  hand  and  made  to  do  me  wrong,  but  I  pre- 
vented him.  Then  he  said  to  me,  '  Why  dost  thou  flee  me  ? 
if  thou  wilt  be  my  mistress  and  make  thy  heart  one  with  mine, 
and  assure  me  thereof,  it  is  my  intention  to  kill  my  father  and 
make  thee  my  wife ;  and  the  riches,  and  the  country,  and  the 
throne,  and  the  kingdom  will  be  ours.'  But  I  consented  not. 
and  he  desired  to  kill  me  that  I  might  not  make  known  this 
matter  to  the  king.  And  I  cried  out  for  the  saving  of  my 
life,  and  he  left  me  in  this  plight  and  went  away.  Now,  O 
king,  know  of  a  surety  that  he  purposes  evil  against  thee, 
and  see  to  the  saving  of  thine  own  life,  else  crown  and  throne 
will  go  from  thy  hands ;  so  ere  he  kill  thee  do  thou  kill  him 
that  thou  be  secure  from  his  wickedness."  When  the  king 
heard  these  words  from  the  lady  he  was  wroth,  and  that  night 
sleep  came  not  to  his  eyes. 

In  the  early  morning  he  went  forth  and  sat  upon  his  throne, 
and  caused  the  prince  to  be  brought  before  him,  that  he  might 
order  the  executioner  to  smite  off  his  head.  The  courtiers 
who  were  beside  him  got  the  executioner  to  delay,  and  at 
once  s'^nt  word  to  the  vezirs.  As  soon  as  they  knew  what  was 
happening,  the  vezirs  came  with  all  speed  to  the  presence  of 
the  king,  and  said,  "  O  king,  how  has  the  prince  this  day  thus 
merited  the  anger  of  the  king  ?  " 

The  king  related  to  the  vezirs  the  events  that  had  taken 
place,  whereupon  the  grand  vezir  said,  "  Slay  not  thy  son, 
trusting  on  the  woman's  word ;  do  not  a  deed  beyond  the  ordi- 
nance of  God  and  the  law  of  the  Messenger :  ®  and  there  is 
no  permission  in  the  law  for  one  to  act  on  a  woman's  word.  If 
there  were  witnesses  that  the  prince  had  done  this  thing  to  the 
lady,  then  were  command  the  king's ;  but  spill  not  blood  un- 
justly, that  afterward  thou  suffer  not  regret  and  remorse. 
They  have  said  that  whatsoever  oppression  there  be  in  a  coun- 
try it  is  incumbent  on  him  who  is  king  to  banish  it ;  where 
then  were  room  for  kings  to  do  deeds  beyond  the  law  and  spill 
blood  unjustly?  If  they  be  negligent  in  the  matter  of  banish- 
ing oppression,  God  most  high  will  visit  and  afflict  them  with 
four  sorts  of  troubles :  firstly,  he  will  make  their  life  short ; 

•  The  Prophet  Mahomet. 


366  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

secondly,  he  will  let  the  enemy  prevail  against  them;  thirdly, 
he  will  give  the  enemy  aid  and  victory ;  and  fourthly,  on  the 
resurrection  day  he  will  be  wroth  with  them  and  consign  them 
to  the  torment  of  hell. 

"  He  then  is  wise  who  will  not  for  a  five-days'  life  lose  the 
hereafter,  and  is  not  needless.  And,  moreover,  the  holy 
Messenger  (peace  on  him!)  when  going  to  perform  the  ablu- 
tion would  first  of  all  perform  it  with  sand;  the  companions 
asked,  '  O  Apostle  of  God,  is  it  lawful  to  perform  the  sand 
ablution  when  there  is  water  ? '  The  most  noble  beloved  of 
God  replied,  '  I  fear  lest  death  let  me  not  reach  the  water.' 
Now,  O  king,  be  not  presumptuous  through  worldly  fortune 
and  kingship,  and  consent  not  to  a  deed  contrary  to  the  law, 
and  ruin  not  thy  hereafter,  trusting  in  the  woman's  word. 
For  by  reason  of  the  craft  of  woman  has  many  a  head  been 
cut  off ;  and  the  blessed  Messenger  hath  said,  '  Whatsoever 
misfortunes  befall  my  people  will  befall  them  through  women.' 
And  wise  is  he  who  looks  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  an 
affair,  like  that  king  who  took  counsel  with  his  sons  and  his 
vezirs  and  the  elders  of  the  country,  and  was  prospered  alike 
in  the  world  and  the  hereafter.  And  that  story  is  a  fair  story ; 
if  the  king  grant  leave  I  will  relate  it."  The  king  said,  "  Tell 
on."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

Trial  of  the  Three  Sons 

"  There  was  of  old  time  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  great 
king,  such  that  the  world  was  under  his  rule.  He  had  lived  en- 
joying sovereignty  for  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  in  the  pal- 
ace of  the  world,  and  was  grown  old  and  knew  that  in  the 
near  future  he  would  be  given  to  drink  of  the  potion  of  death. 
And  the  king  had  three  moon-faced  '^  sons  and  likewise  three 
able  and  skilful  vezirs.  One  day  quoth  the  king  to  his  vezirs, 
'  The  end  of  this  my  life  draws  nigh ;  the  natural  life  of  man 
is  a  hundred  and  twenty  years,  after  that  not  an  old  man 
remains.  Now  I  have  reached  that  state  and  the  affair  is  thus, 
I  wish  to  appoint  one  of  my  sons  to  my  place,  and,  leaning 
my  back  against  the  wall  of  abdication,  take  rest.  Which  of 
my  sons  do  ye  deem  worthy  of  the  throne  ?  '     The  vezirs  said, 

'  I.  e.,  beautiful. 


TRIAL   OF   THE   THREE   SONS  367 

'  O  king-,  long  be  thy  life ;  a  person's  good  and  bad  are  not 
known  till  he  have  been  proved ;  for  two  things  are  the  touch- 
stone of  a  man ;  the  first  is  wine,  the  second,  office ;  in  these 
two  things  is  a  person's  manfulness  apparent  and  manifest. 
This  were  best,  for  nine  days  let  these  thy  three  sons  enjoy 
the  throne  and  sovereignty,  and  with  this  touchstone  let  the 
king  prove  them ;  whatever  be  the  character  of  each  of  them, 
it  will  appear ;  for  the  rest,  let  the  king  order  accordingly.' 

"  When  the  king  heard  these  words  from  the  vezirs  they 
seemed  right  good  to  his  heart,  and  he  commanded  that  each 
son  should  sit  for  three  days  on  the  throne  and  exercise  sov- 
ereignty, and  declared  that  he  would  allow  whatever  they 
should  annul  or  appoint,  and  whatever  they  should  grant  from 
the  treasury,  and  whatever  justice  or  oppression  they  might 
show,  and  that  no  one  should  say  aught.  Then  the  eldest  son 
of  the  king  sat  upon  the  throne  and  directed  the  government, 
and  he  practised  justice  and  equity  on  such  wise  as  cannot  be 
described.  He  loved  the  doctors  and  turned  from  the  foolish, 
and  gave  the  high  offices  to  the  learned,  and  withdrew  from 
listening  to  things  forbidden  and  what  was  vain,  and  strove 
much  in  well-doing. 

"  Then  the  king,  to  prove  the  judgment  of  his  son,  sent  him 
three  persons  from  prison,  one  was  a  murderer,  and  one  a 
thief,  and  one  an  adulterer ;  and  with  them  he  sent  the  com- 
plainants. When  they  came  before  the  prince  the  complain- 
ants stated  their  case  and  the  witnesses  bore  witness  that  these 
three  persons  were  indeed  guilty,  and  that  these  words  were 
no  calumny  against  them,  but  true.  When  the  prince  knew 
how  the  case  was,  he  said,  '  On  a  man's  coming  into  the  world 
he  is  the  blood  of  his  father's  and  mother's  hearts ;  and,  after 
bearing  these  many  troubles  and  afflictions,  a  man  in  forty 
years  becomes  mature ;  so  it  is  not  well  to  slay  him  in  a  minute, 
as  God  most  high  will  in  the  hereafter  surely  punish  him  in 
hell.'  And  he  made  them  vow  that  henceforward  they  would 
do  no  such  deeds,  and  set  all  three  at  liberty.  And  for  the 
whole  three  days  he  ruled  with  justice. 

"  On  the  fourth  day  the  turn  came  to  the  middle  son,  and 
he  likewise  sat  upon  the  throne  and  directed  the  government. 
He  abased  the  learned  and  promoted  the  foolish ;  and  adopted 
as  habit  wine  and  music,  and  as  profession  avarice  and  mean- 


368  HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

ness.  Brief,  he  was  the  opposite  of  his  elder  brother.  Accord- 
ing to  the  custom,  they  sent  to  him  too  three  criminals.  When 
the  prince  heard  how  the  case  was  he  said,  '  Men  like  these 
are  the  thorns  of  the  country ; '  and  he  ordered  that  the  three 
of  them  perished.  When  he  too  had  ruled  for  three  days,  the 
turn  came  to  the  youngest  prince,  and  he  likewise  sat  upon 
the  throne  and  directed  the  government.  He  gave  to  the  doc- 
tors the  post  suitable  to  the  doctors,  and  to  the  learned  the 
high  offices,  and  to  the  strong  and  impetuous  young  heroes, 
military  fiefs,  and  to  the  champions,  feudal  domains ;  and  he 
registered  their  pay.  He  honored  each  of  them  according  to 
his  position,  and  abased  the  unmannerly.  Brief,  he  put  each 
one  in  his  proper  place,  like  a  string  of  pearls ;  and  he  left  not 
his  gate  unlocked  lest  the  foe  should  triumph  over  him. 

"  The  king  again  sent  three  culprits  from  the  prison  that 
he  might  try  his  judgment.  When  they  were  present  the  ser- 
vants informed  him,  and  he  said,  '  Bring  them  one  by  one.' 
Then  when  the  witnesses  had  borne  witness  that  the  man  had 
indeed  committed  murder,  the  prince  said,  '  Murder  is  of  two 
kinds,  the  one  intentional,  the  other  accidental ;  and  the  in- 
tentional is  also  of  two  kinds,  the  first  when  a  person  strikes 
another  with  an  iron  instrument  and  kills  him,  him  it  is  need- 
ful to  put  to  death  in  retaliation ;  and  they  have  written  in  the 
Book  of  Dues  that  if  one  person  strike  another  with  a  stick 
and  kill  him,  or  if  he  throw  him  into  a  fire,  then  the  fine  for 
blood  and  the  expiation  alike  become  necessary.  And  the  other 
too  is  accidental,  when  the  expiation  is  incumbent,  and  he  is 
culpable,  but  the  fine  for  blood  does  not  become  necessary. 
And  that  is  accidental  when  a  person  shoots  an  arrow  at  a 
deer,  and  it  glances  and  hits  a  man  and  kills  him ;  as  God  most 
high  hath  said,  "  Then  whoso  killeth  a  believer  by  mischance, 
then  (the  expiation  is)  the  freeing  of  a  believer  from  bondage 
.  .  .  but  if  he  find  not  (the  means  of  doing  so),  then  a  fast 
for  two  consecutive  months."  '  ^ 

"  Then  the  prince  asked  and  learned  that  he  had  murdered 
intentionally ;  so  they  executed  him.  After  that  they  brought 
the  thief ;  and  the  prince  said,  '  If  anyone,  sane  and  of  age, 
steal  ten  minted  dirhems  of  silver,  his  hand  must  be  cut  ofî, 
as  also  if  he  steal  one  dinar  of  gold,  even  as  saith  the  Apostle 

8  Koran,  iv.  94. 


TRIAL   OF   THE   THREE   SONS  369 

(peace  on  him !),  "  No  cutting  save  for  a  dinar  or  ten  dirhems." 
When  one  thus  commits  theft  his  right  hand  must  be  cut  off 
at  the  wrist ;  if  he  commit  theft  again,  his  left  hand  must  be 
cut  off;  if  he  commit  it  a  third  time,  his  right  foot  must  be 
cut  off ;  and  if  he  commit  it  yet  again,  he  must  be  put  in  prison 
till  he  repent.'  Then  the  prince  caused  the  man  to  receive  the 
due  of  his  crime.  After  that  they  brought  him  who  had  com- 
mitted adultery,  his  case  also  they  exposed,  and  they  gave 
him  the  due  of  his  sin  conformably  to  the  law. 

"  The  nine  days  were  completed,  and  the  king  assembled  his 
vezirs  and  said,  '  Lo,  ye  have  seen  the  rule  of  my  three  sons, 
which  of  them  is  worthy  the  throne  ? '  Quoth  the  first  vezir, 
'  O  king,  thy  eldest  son  is  worthy.'     Quoth  the  second  vezir, 

*  Thy  middle  son  is  worthy.'  Quoth  the  third  vezir,  *  Thy 
youngest  son  is  worthy.'  When  the  king  heard  these  words 
of  the  vezirs  his  doubts  were  not  removed ;  and  he  said,  '  O 
vezirs,  the  words  of  the  three  of  ye  are  contrary  each  to  other.' 
And  forthwith  he  commanded  the  people  of  the  country  that  on 
the  morrow  they  should  all  come  out  to  the  plain.  The  next 
day  the  whole  of  the  folk  were  assembled  on  the  plain ;  then 
the  king  ros  j  on  his  feet  and  said,  '  O  people,  do  not  to-morrow 
on  the  resurrection  day  seize  hold  of  my  collar  and  say,  "  Thou 
hast  oppressed  us,"  and  so  wrest  from  me  my  meritorious  acts 
and  render  me  confounded  and  ashamed.  Now  be  ye  kind  and 
look  not  at  my  kingship  and  know  that  before  God  most  high 
there  is  none  meaner  or  more  abject  than  myself.'  And  he 
wept  full  bitterly.  And  the  rich  and  poor  assembled  there 
wept  all  of  them  together. 

"  Then  turning  again,  the  king  said,  '  O  friends,  lo,  my  time 
is  at  hand ;  do  ye  absolve  me  for  the  hereafter.  I  have  three 
sons,  whichever  of  them  ye  wish,  him  will  I  seat  upon  the 
throne.  If  he  be  just,  ye  will  enjoy  rest  and  bless  me,  and  I 
shall  be  at  rest  in  the  place  where  I  lie ;  but  if  he  be  cruel,  ye 
will  not  have  rest  neither  shall  I  have  rest.'    The  people  said, 

*  May  the  king's  life  endure  full  many  a  year !  may  God  most 
high  be  well  pleased  with  our  king !  We  are  well  pleased  with 
our  king;  whatever  we  may  have  against  our  king,  let  him 
be  absolved.  We  are  pleased  with  whichever  son  he  see  worthy 
the  throne;  but  since  the  king  has  given  the  choice  into  our 
hands,  let  him  seat  his  youngest  son  upon  the  throne.     He 

24 


370  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

is  wise  as  well  as  learned  and  skilled  in  the  affairs  of  the 
world ;  if  the  king  see  fit,  the  wise  is  worthy  the  seat  of 
honor,  as  this  has  come  down  in  the  traditions,  "  A  wise  youth 
taketh  precedence  of  a  foolish  elder."  For  the  rest,  the  king 
knows.' 

"  Then  the  king  went  to  the  palace  and  ordered  that  they 
adorned  the  throne,  and  the  grandees  of  the  state  came,  and 
all  were  present.  Then  he  took  his  youngest  son  by  the  hand 
and  made  to  seat  him  on  the  throne,  when  his  brothers  came 
forward  and  said,  '  O  father,  all  the  folk  say  that'  he  is  ac- 
complished and  wise  and  that  he  knows  well  the  law  and  the 
government ;  now  we  have  some  questions  to  ask  of  him, 
which  if  he  answer,  we  also  will  contentedly  resign  to  him 
the  throne  and  stand  in  his  presence  with  folded  hands ;  ^  but 
if  not,  the  crown  and  throne  indeed  become  him  not.' 

"The  king  said  to  his  youngest  son,  'What  sayest  thou?' 
He  replied,  '  Whatsoever  their  questions  be,  let  them  ask  them.' 
They  said,  '  What  is  meant  by  Sultan  ?  '  He  answered,  '  By 
Sultan  is  meant  one  who  has  certificate  and  warrant,  that  we 
obey  the  command  and  ordinance  of  God  most  high:  the  Sul- 
tan is  the  shadow  of  God  on  the  earth.'  And  they  asked,  *  To 
whom  is  it  worthy  to  be  king  by  birth  ?  '  He  answered,  '  First 
the  king's  lineage  must  be  manifest,  then  his  descent  must  be 
perfect,  then  he  must  observe  the  habits  of  the  just  monarchs. 
They  said,  'Who  is  just?'  He  answered,  'The  just  is  he 
who  transgresses  not  the  law.'  They  said,  '  Who  is  unjust?' 
He  replied,  '  He  who  rather  than  obey  the  law,  brings  in  inno- 
vations of  his  own,  so  that  it  may  be  easy  to  amass  wealth 
with  oppression.'  They  said,  '  What  manner  of  persons 
should  kings  appoint  vezirs  ?  ' 

"  He  answered,  '  They  should  appoint  those  persons  in  whom 
are  two  characteristics,  the  first  of  which  is  that  they  be  en- 
dowed with  prudence  and  resource,  and  the  second  that  they  be 
wise  and  accomplished ;  for  learning  in  a  man  is  a  second  un- 
derstanding.' They  said,  '  How  many  sorts  of  people  are 
needful  to  kings  ?  '  He  answered,  '  Four  kinds  of  people  ;  the 
first,  skilful  vezirs ;  the  second,  valiant  warriors ;  the  third,  an 
accomplished  scribe  who  is  perfect  in  Arabic  and  Persian  and 
the  science  of  writing ;  and  the  fourth,  a  clever  physician  who 

*  As  servants  do. 


TRIAL   OF   THE   THREE   SONS 


371 


is  most  able  in  the  science  of  philosophy.'  They  said,  '  How 
many  different  things  ought  always  to  be  in  the  thoughts  of  a 
king  ?  '  He  answered,  '  Four  different  things ;  the  first,  to  do 
justice  to  the  people;  the  second,  to  use  aright  the  money  that 
is  in  the  treasury;  the  third,  to  distribute  offices  properly;  and 
the  fourth,  to  be  not  negligent  concerning  enemies.'  They 
said,  '  How  many  different  traits  should  the  king  adopt  as  his 
wont  ?  '  He  answered,  '  Four  ;  the  first  is  a  smiling  face ;  the 
second,  a  sweet  speech ;  the  third,  generosity ;  and  the  fourth, 
mercy  to  the  poor.'  They  said,  '  How  many  kinds  of  cour- 
tiers are  needful  to  the  king  ? '  He  answered,  '  Four  classes 
are  requisite;  first,  the  wise;  second,  the  learned;  third,  the 
valiant  champions ;  and  fourth,  musicians :  from  the  wise  he 
will  learn  the  law,  from  the  learned  he  will  acquire  the  sciences, 
from  the  valiant  champions  he  will  acquire  chivalry,  and  by 
the  musicians  will  his  heart  be  expanded.' 

"  They  said,  '  Of  which  class  should  the  king  consider  him- 
self one  ? '  He  answered,  '  Let  him  consider  himself  of  the 
great  sheykh?  who  have  reached  God,  for  it  will  cause  him  to 
be  just.'  TLen  he  turned  to  his  brothers  and  said,  '  O  my 
brothers,  ye  have  put  these  many  questions  to  me  and  I  have 
answered  the  whole  of  them  to  the  best  of  my  power:  I  too 
have  a  question,'  So  they  said  to  him,  '  Ask  on.'  Quoth  he, 
'  What  do  the  kings  of  the  world  resemble,  and  what  do  their 
agents  resemble,  and  what  do  the  people  resemble,  and  what 
do  the  king's  enemies  resemble,  and  what  do  the  sheykhs  re- 
semble ? '  Then  they  both  bent  their  heads  and  pondered. 
After  a  time  the  prince  again  said,  '  This  is  no  time  for  ponder- 
ing ;  lo,  there  the  question ;  lo,  there  the  throne.'  Quoth  they, 
*  We  are  unequal  to  this  question.'  Then  the  king  took  his 
youngest  son  by  the  hand  and  seated  him  on  the  throne  and 
said,  '  O  son,  may  God  ever  aid  thee  and  may  thy  foes  be  over- 
thrown !  '  Then  all  the  nobles  of  the  state  and  the  people  came 
and  said,  '  May  the  throne  be  blessed ! '  And  they  made  him 
king  over  them. 

"  Then  the  king  said,  '  O.son,  do  thou  answer  the  question 
thou  puttest  to  thy  brethren,  that  we  may  hear.'  Quoth  the 
prince,  '  O  my  father,  this  world  resembles  a  pasture,  and  these 
people  resemble  the  sheep  that  wander  in  that  pasture,  and  the 
king  resembles  their  shepherd,  and  the  owner  of  the  sheep 


372  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY  VEZIRS 

is  God  most  high,  and  the  nobles  resemble  that  shepherd's 
dogs,  and  the  enemy  resembles  the  wolf,  and  the  sheykhs  and 
the  wise  resemble  the  guardians  appointed  by  God  most  high 
over  the  shepherd,  who  forbid  the  shepherd  by  the  order  of 
God  most  high  whenever  he  would  do  evil  to  the  sheep.  O 
father,  in  very  truth  I  am  a  feeble  shepherd,  I  see  the  sheep, 
and  I  perceive  that  even  while  we  say,  "  Let  not  them  come  and 
hurt  the  sheep/'  we  become  ourselves  partners  with  the  wolf. 
Should  the  Owner  of  the  sheep  ask  us  about  his  lambs,  woe, 
woe  to  us ! '  And  he  wept  full  bitterly.  The  princes  acknowl- 
edged the  sovereignty  of  their  younger  brother. 

"  Then  the  King  took  up  a  handful  of  dust  and  put  it  on 
his  eye  and  said,  '  O  eye,  how  long  a  time  is  it  I  have  been 
king,  and  how  great  wealth  have  I  amassed  and  brought  be- 
fore thee  by  this  much  oppression  and  justice,  and  thou  wast 
never  satisfied !  And  with  how  many  beauties  have  I  made 
merry  arid  enjoyed  the  best  of  what  they  had  till  thou  hast 
lost  all  pleasure  in  taking  it !  And  how  many  delicacies  have 
I  eaten  and  how  many  sherbets  have  I  drunk,  and  thou  art  not 
content!  Why  then  didst  thou  not  look  to  these  afîairs  and 
see  not  ?  True  is  it  what  they  say,  "  Naught  fills  the  eye  save 
a  handful  of  dust."  Woe,  woe,  to  us ! '  And  he  wept.  And 
all  the  nobles  assembled  there  were  moved  to  pity  and  they 
wept  together.  Then  the  king  arose  and  went  to  his  oratory 
and  gave  himself  up  to  devotion. 

"  After  some  time  the  king  laid  his  head  upon  the  pillow 
of  death  and  felt  that  his  life  had  touched  its  end,  and  he  said, 
'  Do  now  before  my  eyes  that  which  ye  should  do  when  I  am 
dead,  that  I  may  see  it.'  Then  they  laid  the  king  upon  his 
throne  in  the  palace.  And  they  scattered  sifted  dust  below  the 
castle  and  cut  up  strips  of  damask  and  strewed  them  with 
dust.  And  all  the  slave  girls  put  on  black  and  dishevelled 
their  hair  and  scattered  dust  upon  their  heads  and  began  to 
weep  together,  crying,  '  Alas  !  woe !  alas  ! '  so  that  hearts  were 
rent.  Then  came  the  vezirs,  who  likewise  fell  to  weeping  to- 
gether and  exclaiming,  '  Shall  a  king  so  just  as  this  be 
found  ?  '  After  that  they  ordered  that  they  brought  a  coffin 
with  great  reverence ;  then  the  three  princes,  when  they  saw 
the  coffin,  wept  blood  in  place  of  tears  and  cried,  '  This  is  the 
horse  our  father  rideth  now ! '  And  they  adorned  it  with  jewels 


TRIAL   OF   THE   THREE   SONS  373 

and  placed  upon  it  a  jewel-set  crown  and  held  over  it  the  royal 
parasol. 

"  Then  four  great  lords  came  and  took  hold  of  the  frame  of 
the  coffin  and  bare  it  away.  And  before  the  coffin  went  the 
sheykhs  singing  chants  and  hymns.  And  the  devotees  held 
copies  of  the  sacred  volume  before  them ;  and  great  nobles 
and  nobles'  sons  marched  in  front.  Before  them  were  a  hun- 
dred sweet-voiced  dirge  singers  who  wept  and  cried,  '  Ah ! 
woe !  alas ! '  And  from  one  side  they  scattered  gold  and  sil- 
ver and  jewels  on  the  coffin ;  and  there  were  some  10,000 
horsemen  with  golden  saddles  and  broken-  stirrups  and  snapped 
bows.  And  behind  these  was  an  array  of  slave  girls,  all  clad 
in  black,  whose  wails  and  cries  rose  to  the  heavens. 

"  When  the  king  saw  those  things  he  sighed  and  ordered 
that  they  took  him  down  from  the  throne ;  and  he  turned  and 
said,  *  While  yet  alive  I  have  seen  my  death.'  And  he  took  a 
handful  of  earth  and  threw  it  on  his  head  and  said,  '  Earth, 
though  this  lor  g  sovereignty  has  been  mine,  I  have  done  no 
righteous  deed  which  will  endure.'  And  again,  '  O  vezirs,  I 
would  that  ye  endow  for  me.'  Thereupon  the  vezirs  wrote 
what  amounted  to  10,000  aspres  a  day ;  and  they  founded  free 
kitchens  and  colleges,  and  they  settled  the  revenues  of  certain 
towns  and  villages  on  the  free  kitchens.  When  the  business 
of  the  endowments  was  finished,  they  brought  the  sections 
of  the  Koran,  and  to  each  section  reader  they  gave  five  sequins ; 
and  to  each  of  the  devotees  and  dervishes  they  gave  500  se- 
quins.^'^  Then  they  brought  the  food,  and  all  the  plates  were 
of  gold  or  silver ;  and  to  all  before  whom  they  placed  a  dish 
they  said,  '  Thine  be  food  and  plate.'  When  the  banquet  too 
was  finished  they  freed  all  the  male  and  female  slaves ;  and 
three  days  later  the  king  departed  for  the  Abiding  Home. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king 
may,  like  that  sovereign,  inquire,  and  act  conformably  to  the 
words  of  the  vezirs  and  the  people,  and  in  compliance  with  the 
command  of  the  law,  that  he  be  not  a  prey  in  the  world  to  re- 
morse and  in  the  hereafter  to  torment."  And  he  kissed  the 
ground  and  made  intercession  for  the  prince.     When  the  king 

1»  In  the  time  of  MurSd  II  an  aspre  were  equivalent  to  about  12s.  6d.     For- 

was  worth  about  aid.   stg.    Turkish  se-  eign    gold    coins,    especially    Venetian, 

quins  were  not  struck  till   the  time   of  were  used  previously, 
his  successor,  Mahomet  II,  when  they 


374  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

heard  of  these  wondrous  events  from  the  vezir,  he  perceived 
how  the  world  had  no  stabiHty  and  he  sighed  and  sent  the 
youth  to  the  prison  and  went  himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  he  returned  and  came  to  the  palace, 
and  went  in  to  the  lady  who  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they  sat 
down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  began  to  speak  about  the 
youth  and  asked  concerning  him.  Quoth  the  king,  "  I  have 
again  sent  him  to  the  prison."  The  lady  said,  "  This  matter 
which  has  happened  is  no  light  matter,  but  thou  art  negligent 
and  wouldst  act  upon  everyone's  word;  and  they  haye  said 
that  the  negligent  person  is  not  exempt  from  one  of  three 
conditions;  either  he  is  a  fool,  or  he  is  ignorant,  or  fortune 
has  turned  its  face  from  him.  O  king,  the  negligent  does 
no  perfect  deed ;  be  not  negligent,  for  to  be  negligent  in  this 
affair  is  madness.  O  king,  this  thy  story  resembles  that  of 
another  king,  upon  whom  five  times  fell  the  enemy  by  reason 
of  his  negligence ;  but  mayhap  my  king  has  not  heard  that 
story."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."  Quoth  the 
lady: 

Stratagem  Greater  Than  Strength 

"  There  was  of  old  time  a  king,  and  he  had  an  enemy  greater 
than  himself.  One  day  that  hostile  king  assembled  a  mighty 
host  and  came  against  that  weak  king.  The  latter,  having  no 
other  resource,  assembled  all  his  army  and  went  forth  to  meet 
him.  Although  he  much  besought  that  strong  king  and  said, 
'  War  is  not  a  good  thing,  come,  consent  not  to  this  calamity, 
make  not  thyself  guilty  of  the  blood  of  so  many  Moslems ; ' 
and  mentioned  how  the  holy  Apostle  hath  said,  *  If  two  Mos- 
lems fight  against  each  other  with  swords  or  other  implements 
of  war,  and  one  kill  the  other,  both  the  killer  and  the  killed 
shall  enter  hell ; '  and  made  many  and  many  an  excuse,  it  was 
in  vain. 

"  When  the  king  saw  that  all  his  entreaty  was  of  no  avail 
with  the  enemy,  he  perceived  that  it  was  necessary  to  find  some 
plan  to  avert  this  evil.  Now  the  king  had  three  skilful  vezirs, 
these  he  summoned  to  give  counsel.  He  said,  '  O  my  vezirs, 
what  is  your  advice  in  this  matter  ? '  The  chief  vezir  came 
forward  and  said,  '  My  king,  in  the  present  circumstances  the 
military  might  of  our  enemy  is  great;  most  assuredly  are  we 


STRATAGEM  GREATER  THAN  STRENGTH    375 

unable  to  oppose  him.  Now  the  best  way  were  this,  that  we 
put  off  the  battle  and  return  to  our  country ;  he  will  certainly 
come  after  us,  but  we  will  enter  into  a  strong  castle  and  rest 
there  till  that  time  when  fortune  will  surely  turn  toward  us 
likewise ;  thus  are  the  affairs  of  the  world,  now  gladness,  now 
woe.'  He  likewise  asked  the  second  vezir,  '  What  is  thy  ad- 
vice, let  us  see  ? '  So  he  said,  *  O  my  king,  all  that  the  first 
vezir  has  said  is  wise ;  but  it  is  never  allowable  to  show  weak- 
ness before  the  enemy,  for  inasmuch  as  thou  displayest  weak- 
ness will  he  become  strong;  so  if  now  thou  shun  battle  and 
flee,  thou  wilt  be  giving  him  opportunity.  Wise  is  he  who, 
although  the  enemy  appear  overwhelming,  fears  not  death  and 
gives  the  foe  no  answer  but  the  sword.' 

"  Then,  said  the  king  to  the  third  vezir,  '  What  is  thine 
advice  in  this  matter  ? '  The  vezir  answered,  '  O  king,  man- 
liness is  of  ten  parts,  nine  of  which  are  stratagem  and  one  of 
which  is  strength ;;  and  by  stratagem  is  the  affair  of  enemies 
ever  finished,  for  they  have  said  that  the  affair  which  one 
stratagem  finishes  100,000  soldiers  cannot  finish.  If  the  king 
will  be  guided  by  this  humble  one,  to-night  of  a  sudden  we  will 
attack  the  enemy  and  fall  upon  his  camp,  and,  if  it  please  God 
most  high,  we  will  cut  oft'  the  heads  of  many  of  them.'  The 
king  approved  this  stratagem  of  the  vezir,  so  when  it  was  mid- 
night and  the  enemy  was  negligent  they  fell  upon  his  camp  from 
every  side,  and  slaughtered  the  foes  till  morning,  and  their  king 
fled  to  his  own  country. 

"  So  was  this  weak  king  victorious,  and  he  returned  to  his 
own  land.  But  that  fugitive  king  went  to  his  country  and 
assembled  an  army,  and  again  marched  against  this  king. 
Then  the  weak  king,  having  no  other  resource,  went  forth  to 
meet  him,  and  they  pitched  opposite  each  other. 

"  The  weak  king  said  to  his  vezirs,  '  What  is  your  advice 
this  time,  let  us  see  ? '  Then  quoth  the  third  vezir,  '  O  king, 
we  shall  again  finish  our  affair  by  stratagem.'  Said  the  king, 
'What  stratagem  shall  we  use?  they  will  be  very  watchful 
this  night.'  The  vezir  replied,  '  Stratagem  is  not  one ;  let  them 
keep  watch  till  morning,  we  shall  this  time  employ  another 
stratagem.'  Quoth  the  king,  '  Speak  on,  let  us  see.'  The  vezir 
said,  '  We  will  hide  in  ambush  2,000  strong  impetuous  youths ; 
and  as  soon  as  it  is  morning  we  will  go  out  against  the  enemy 


376  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

and  fight  a  little,  then  we  will  appear  to  flee,  and  they  shall  fol- 
low after,  thinking  to  fall  upon  us ;  and  when  the  foremost  of 
the  host  reaches  us  we  will  turn  and  fight  with  them  and  cut 
them  down.  Thereupon  our  soldiers  who  are  in  ambush  will 
rush  into  the  field  and  take  the  hostile  army  in  the  centre ;  and, 
if  it  please  God  most  high,  we  will  strike  hard  with  our  swords 
and  seize  their  leaders,  and  take  their  flags,  and  tear  in  pieces 
their  ensigns ;  and  in  this  way  will  we  overcome  the  foe.'  The 
king  liked  this  plan  of  the  vezir,  and  by  this  stratagem  they 
sabred  the  foe  and  were  again  victorious.  And  the  king  re- 
turned smiling  to  his  country. 

"  The  other  strong  king  in  the  greatness  of  his  wrath  cried 
out,  '  What  means  this  that  thus  weak  a  king  routs  my  army 
and  puts  me  to  flight  on  this  wise!  God  most  high  gives  vic- 
tory to  whom  he  will ! '  Then  he  assembled  an  army  of  which 
he,  himself,  knew  not  the  number,  and  went  against  that  poor 
weak  king.  They  gave  the  king  word,  and  he,  having  no  other 
resource,  went  forth  again,  and  they  pitched  opposite  each 
other.  Again  the  weak  king  questioned  his  vezirs.  Then  the 
the  third  vezir  said,  '  O  my  king,  our  affair  is  finished  by 
stratagem.'  Quoth  the  king,  '  What  stratagem  shall  we  em- 
ploy ? '  The  vezir  said,  '  O  king,  let  us  send  an  adroit  heads- 
man, who  will  go  and  by  some  stratagem  kill  him;  and  when 
the  head  goes  the  foot  is  not  steady.' 

"  The  king  approved  the  vezir's  words,  and  sent  a  headsman 
with  a  dagger,  who  went  and  somehow  made  shift  to  smite 
that  strong  king  that  he  well-nigh  slew  him,  and  then  took 
flight.  But  while  he  was  fleeing  they  caught  him  and  hewed 
him  in  pieces.  When  they  saw  their  king  that  he  had  reached 
the  bounds  of  death,  they  said,  '  There  is  no  fighting  in  such 
plight ; '  and  they  fled,  bearing  their  king.  They  came  to  their 
country  and  appointed  a  physician,  and  after  some  days  the 
wound  got  better.  And  that  king  again  assembled  a  host 
and  came  against  the  poor  weak  king.  The  latter,  having  no 
other  resource,  went  forth  to  meet  him  and  again  sought  coun- 
sel of  his  vezirs.  The  third  vezir  said,  '  O  my  king,  our  affair 
is  finished  by  stratagem.'  The  king  asked,  '  What  stratagem 
wilt  thou  employ  this  time  ?  '  The  vezir  said,  '  This  time  let  us 
send  an  ambassador  and  offer  some  money  and  some  slave 
girls  and  say,  "  We  submit  to  thee."    And  we  will  give  poison 


STRATAGEM  GREATER  THAN  STRENGTH    377 

to  one  of  the  slave  girls  we  send,  and  tell  her  to  give  it  to  the 
king  to  eat  when  she  finds  an  opportunity ;  and  in  this  way  will 
we  gain  the  victory  over  him.' 

"  The  king  deemed  the  vezir's  words  good,  and  by  that 
stratagem  they  poisoned  that  king.  And  this  king  mounted 
and  attacked  his  army,  and,  as  when  the  head  goes  the  foot 
is  not  steady,  it  was  beaten.  They  took  their  king,  and,  after 
a  thousand  stratagems,  conveyed  him  to  a  castle  and  tended 
him,  and  at  length  he  recovered.  Again  he  assembled  an  army, 
and  again  they  went  against  that  weak  king.  So  the  latter, 
having  no  other  resource,  again  went  forth  to  meet  him.  He 
summoned  his  vezirs  and  asked  advice.  Again  the  third  vezir 
said,  '  O  king,  our  affair  is  finished  by  stratagem.'  Quoth  the 
king,  '  Give  advice.'  The  vezir  said,  '  O  king,  this  time  he 
comes  with  great  caution,  and  has  posted  men  on  the 
roads  and  at  the  s:ations  who  seize  on  everyone  who 
passes.  If  the  king  deem  good,  we  will  write  a  letter  and 
address  it  to  his  vezirs  and  great  nobles,  and  it  shall  be  on 
this  wise : 

"  '  "  After  greeting :  Be  it  not  concealed  that  your  letter  has 
come  and  all  that  you  say  is  understood.  Long  life  and 
health  to  you !  We  indeed  hoped  it  from  you.  Now  let  me 
see  you.  Display  manliness  and  valor.  Seize  him  on  the  road 
and  bring  him  to  me,  and  that  country  shall  be  yours  ;  such  and 
such  a  place  to  so  and  so,  and  such  and  such  a  district  to  so 
and  so."  Then  we  will  seal  it,  and  split  a  staff  and  put  it 
therein,  and  give  it  to  a  man  and  send  him  to  them.  They 
will  find  the  staff  and  take  it  to  the  king,  who  will  undoubt- 
edly read  it,  and  look  upon  those  vezirs  and  nobles  as  trai- 
tors, and  murmurings  will  arise  among  them  and  they  will 
split  into  parties.  And  by  this  stratagem  we  will  again  find 
relief.' 

"  The  king  did  so.  And  in  that  way  they  brought  the  letter  to 
that  king,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  read  it,  fear  for  his  life  fell 
upon  him.  Then  he  turned  back  and  went  to  his  country 
and  seized  those  vezirs  and  nobles  and  slew  them.  At  length 
all  the  nobles  turned  from  him  and  wrote  a  letter  and  sent  it 
to  this  king,  and  it  was  thus :  '  For  the  love  of  God  come 
against  this  tyrant,  and  we  will  aid  thee.'  When  the  king 
had  read  the  letter  he  assembled  an  army  and  went  to  that 


378  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

country,  and  on  the  battle  day  all  the  nobles  came  and  sub- 
mitted to  him,  and  they  seized  the  other  king  and  surrendered 
him.  So  he  took  that  country  through  stratagem ;  and  be- 
cause that  strong  king  was  negligent  he  lost  his  country  and 
his  head,  for  they  slew  him. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  my  king  may 
know  and  not  be  negligent,  and  lose  not  life  and  kingdom 
through  the  stratagem  of  that  unworthy  youth."  When  the 
king  heard  this  story  from  the  lady  he  was  wroth,  and  said, 
"  To-morrow  will  I  slay  him." 

When  it  was  morning  and  the  sun  showed  his  face  from 
behind  the  castle  of  Qaf,^  and  illumined  the  world  with  light, 
the  king  came  and  sat  upon  his  throne,  and  commanded  the 
executioner  that  he  bring  the  youth  and  he  gave  the  word, 
"  Smite  off  his  head."  Then  the  fourth  vezir  came  forward 
and  said,  "  O  my  king,  it  is  not  seemly  in  kings  to  hasten  in  all 
things  with  precipitancy ;  above  all  the  spilling  of  blood  un- 
justly is  deemed  by  the  wise  most  blameworthy  and  hateful. 
They  have  declared  that  the  trials  of  a  king  are  four :  one  is 
haste;  another,  trusting  to  wrong;  another,  considering  not 
the  end  of  matters ;  and  another,  negligence.  Haste  is  that 
which  disappoints  those  who  seek  good  and  profit  for  them- 
selves ;  wrong  is  that  which  brings  about  wars  and  uses  armies 
unjustly  and  does  evil  things ;  considering  not  the  end  of  mat- 
ters is  that  which  employs  hurry  instead  of  deliberation ;  and 
negligence  is  that  which  inclines  to  music,  and  lust,  and  taking 
counsel  of  women.  And  they  have  said,  '  Let  one  take  counsel 
of  a  woman  and  do  the  opposite  of  what  she  says ; '  even  as 
spake  the  holy  Apostle  (peace  on  him!)  'Consult  them  and 
do  clear  contrary.'  ^ 

"  In  compliance  with  this  tradition  the  king  must  not  obey 
the  woman's  word ;  and  through  the  words  of  women  have 
many  men  suffered  remorse  and  fallen  under  the  wrath  of 
God.  And  the  story  of  Balaam,  the  son  of  Beor,^  is  a  strange 
story ;  if  the  king  grant  leave,  I  will  relate  it."  The  king  said, 
"  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

*  Qlf  is  the  name  of  a  fabled  moun-  ^  This    famous    speech    is    usually    at- 
tain chain,  formerly  supposed  to   encir-  tributed  to  'Omar,  the  second  caliph, 
cle  the  world;  "the   castle"   is   simply  ^  gai'am-bin-Bâ'ûr. 
a  metaphor  for  the  mountain  peaks. 


THE   WILES   OF   WOMAN  379 


The  Wiles  of  Woman 

"  One  day  Moses  (peace  on  him!)  went  against  a  tribe,  and 
they  were  of  the  people  of  'Ad,  and  they  called  their  chief  Og, 
the  son  of  Anak.*  One  day  Moses  (peace  on  him!)  by  com- 
mand of  God  summoned  these  to  the  faith,  and  resolved  to 
fight  and  war  with  them  if  they  were  not  obedient.  So  Moses 
(peace  on  him!)  assembled  four  hundred  and  four-score 
thousand  men  and  proceeded  against  the  'Adis.  When  they 
were  come  near  the  'Adis,  he  sent  twelve  men  as  ambassadors 
to  that  tribe.  Now  Og  had  gone  out  to  look  about,  and  he  saw 
the  twelve  men  coming,  so  he  put  the  whole  of  them  into  his 
sack  and  slung  it  over  his  shoulder  and  turned  back  and  went 
away.  He  brought  them  to  his  tribe  the  'Adis  and  said,  *  See 
the  host  of  the  Messenger  Moses  which  is  come  seeking  to 
make  war  with  us ; '  and  he  held  the  mouth  of  the  sack  down- 
ward and  the  twelve  men  rolled  out. 

"  And  that  tribe  saw  them  that  they  were  small  of  stature, 
for  their  own  stature  was  twice  that  of  these.  And  they  all 
made  mock  of  them  and  laughed  at  them ;  but  they  killed 
them  not,  but  sent  them  back.  They  returned  and  told  these 
things  to  Saint  Moses,  and  fear  fell  upon  all  the  host.  Then 
Saint  Moses  (peace  on  him!)  took  his  rod  in  his  hand  and 
went  against  that  tribe  of  'Ad.  Og  the  son  of  Anak  saw  that 
Moses  (peace  on  him!)  was  himself  coming,  and  straightway 
he  went  and  pulled  up  a  rock  like  a  mountain  and  put  it  on 
his  head,  and  went  that  he  might  cast  it  upon  the  host  of  Moses 
(peace  on  him!).  But  God  most  high  commanded  an  angel 
that  he  went  in  the  likeness  of  a  bird  and  smote  that  rock  with 
his  beak  and  clave  it,  and  thereupon  it  passed  like  a  circle  of 
cursers  down  before  the  face  of  Og.  And  straightway  Saint 
Moses  came  up,  and  his  stature  grew  to  forty  cubits,  and  his 
rod  to  forty  cubits,  and  he  leaped  up  forty  cubits,  and  smote 
Og  on  the  heel  with  his  rod ;  and  God  most  high  slew  Og. 

"  Then  Saint  Moses  (peace  on  him!)  returned  to  his  people 
and  gave  them  tidings  of  Og  being  slain ;  and  they  were  all 
glad.  Then  Saint  Moses  passed  thence  and  made  for  the 
country  of  Sheykh  Balaam,  the  son  of  Beor.    When  he  was 

*  'Uj-bin-'Unuq.     He   is    said,    in    the        from  sixty  to  one  hundred  cubits  high. 
Talmud,    to    have    been    a    monstrous        Compare   Numbers   xiii.   33. 
giant.     The    'Adîs,    we   are    told,    were 


380  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

come  nigh,  they  brought  word  to  the  sheykh  that  Saint  Moses 
was  coming  against  him  with  many  warriors.  Whereupon 
the  sheykh's  disciples  said,  '  O  sheykh,  if  that  host  come  into 
our  land,  it  will  lay  waste  all  our  land;  thou  must  find  some 
help  for  this.'  Then  were  they  silent.  The  sheykh  said, '  What 
should  we  do?'  They  answered,  'Curse  him.'  The  sheykh 
said,  '  He  is  a  Messenger ;  I  cannot  curse  him.'  And  how- 
soever much  they  urged  the  sheykh,  it  was  in  vain.  Now  the 
sheykh  had  a  cunning  brawling  wife ;  her  they  besought,  say- 
ing, '  Speak  to  the  sheykh,  and  we  will  give  thee  much  money.' 
The  woman  answered,  '  I  will  manage  it.'  When  the  sheykh 
came  to  his  house  he  desired  to  take  counsel  of  his  wife; 
she  said,  '  Curse  him.'  The  sheykh  replied,  '  He  is  a  Messen- 
ger ;  how  can  I  curse  him  ?  ' 

"  The  woman  persisted  so  that  the  sheykh  was  constrained 
to  lift  up  his  hands  and  curse  him.  His  curse  was  heard ;  and 
Saint  Moses,  who  was  fourteen  leagues  distant,  remained  for 
forty  years  in  the  wilderness ;  even  as  God  most  high  saith 
in  his  Word,  '  For  forty  years  shall  they  wander  about  in 
the  earth.'  ^  Then  Saint  Moses  knew  that  there  was  some 
reason  for  this,  and  he  prayed  and  humbled  himself  before 
God  most  high,  and  said,  *  My  God,  send  him  who  is  the 
cause  of  our  thus  wandering,  from  the  world  to  the  here- 
after without  the  faith.'  His  prayer  was  accepted  at  the 
court  of  God,  and  that  sheykh  went  from  the  world  to  the 
hereafter  without  the  faith  by  reason  of  a  woman ;  even  as 
God  most  high  hath  said,  '  And  his  likeness  was  as  the  like- 
ness of  a  dog.'  ^ 

"  Now,  O  King,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  these  many 
men  have  been  cast  forth  from  the  court  of  God  for  following 
the  words  of  women.  Then  is  it  incumbent  on  the  king  that 
he  judge  accordingly,  so  that  he  become  not  a  prey  to  re- 
morse ;  for  too  late  repentance  profits  not.  Beware  and  be- 
ware, slay  not  the  prince  on  the  woman's  word."  And  he 
kissed  the  ground  and  made  intercession  for  the  prince  for 
that  day.  When  the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  vezir,  he 
sent  the  prince  to  the  prison  and  went  himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  came  to  the  palace,  and  the 
lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they  sat  down.    After  the  repast 

"  Koran,  v.  29.  *  Koran,  vii.   175. 


THE   SEARCH    FOR   KHIZR  381 

the  lady  again  began  to  speak  about  the  youth,  and  the  king 
said,  ''  This  day  too  my  vezirs  would  not  let  me  be,  so  I  have 
sent  him  to  the  prison."  Quoth  the  lady,  "  I  know  all  the 
plot  of  those  vezirs,  day  by  day  each  of  them  plans  some  trick 
or  wile ;  they  purpose  to  discredit  me  with  thee,  so  they  say 
that  women  are  lacking  in  understanding,  and  that  by  reason 
thereof  they  are  plotters  and  liars.  These  words  of  theirs  are 
false,  do  not  assail  the  truth ;  for  these  see  me,  that  my  trust 
in  my  king  is  strong.  Yet  I  am  aware  of  their  case  and  their 
hurtful  deeds ;  and  for  that  I  would  defend  my  king  from 
their  craft  and  malice,  are  they  enemies  to  me.  An  thou  de- 
sire, my  king,  I  shall  say  no  more ;  and  they  may  do  what- 
soever they  will.  But  all  these  are  of  single  tongue  and  sin- 
gle aim,  and  I  fear  they  will  bring  some  calamity  upon  thee 
and  some  evil  upon  me;  and  afterward  thou  shalt  repent,  but 
it  will  avail  not. 

"  My  king,  thou  hast  assembled  some  men  of  low  birth  and 
made  them  vezirs  and  confided  all  thy  affairs  to  them,  and  thou 
thinkest  them  honest ;  Heaven  forefend  they  should  be  honest 
when  some  of  them  are  the  sons  of  cooks,  and  some  of  bakers, 
and  some  of  butchers;  it  is  even  as  when  Khizr  ^  (peace  on 
him!)  showed  another  king  the  origin  of  his  vezirs,  but  may- 
hap my  king  has  not  heard  that  story."  The  king  said,  "  Tell 
on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  lady : 

The  Search  for  Khizr 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  king  who  was  very 
desirous  of  seeing  Khizr  (peace  on  him!)  ;  and  he  would 
ever  say,  '  If  there  be  anyone  who  will  show  me  Khizr,  I  will 
give  him  whatsoever  he  may  wish.'  Now  there  was  at  that 
time  a  nian  poor  of  estate;  and  from  the  greatness  of  his 
poverty  he  said  in  himself,  '  Let  me  go  and  bespeak  the  king 
that  if  he  provide  for  me  during  three  years  I  will  show  him 
Khizr ;  by  three  years  either  I  shall  be  dead  or  the  king  will 
be  dead,  or  he  will  forgive  me  my  fault,  or  I  shall  on  some- 
wise win  to  escape :  and  in  this  way  shall  I  make  merry  for 
a  time.'     So  he  went  to  the  king  and  spake  those  words  to 

'  A  mysterious  being,  of  the  number  quently  mentioned  in  Mahometan  fic- 
of  the  prophets,  who  appears  to  and  tion,  where  he  plays  a  part  similar  to 
aids    Moslems    in    distress;    he    is    fre-        that  of  Elijah  in  the  Talmud. 


382  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

him.  The  king  said,  '  An  thou  show  him  not  then,  I  will  kill 
thee ; '  and  that  poor  man  consented. 

"  Then  the  king  let  give  him  much  wealth  and  money,  and 
the  poor  man  took  that  wealth  and  money  and  went  to  his 
house.  Three  years  he  spent  in  merriment  and  delight,  and 
he  rested  at  ease  till  the  term  was  accomplished.  At  the  end 
of  the  time  he  fled  and  hid  himself  in  a  trackless  place,  and 
he  began  to  quake  for  fear.  Of  a  sudden  he  saw  a  personage 
with  white  raiment  and  shining  face  who  saluted  him.  The 
poor  man  returned  the  salutation,  and  the  radiant  being  asked, 
'  Why  art  thou  thus  sad  ?  '  but  he  gave  no  answer.  Again  the 
radiant  being  asked  him  and  sware  to  him,  saying,  '  Do  indeed 
tell  to  me  thy  plight  that  I  may  find  thee  some  remedy.'  So 
that  hapless  one  narrated  his  story  from  its  beginning  to  its 
end ;  and  the  radiant  being  said,  '  Come,  I  will  go  with  thee 
to  the  king  and  I  will  answer  for  thee ; '  so  they  arose. 

"  Now  the  king  wanted  that  hapless  one ;  and,  while  they 
were  going,  some  of  the  king's  officers  who  were  seeking  met 
them,  and  they  straightway  seized  the  poor  man  and  brought 
him  to  the  king.  Quoth  the  king,  '  Lo,  the  three  years  are 
accomplished ;  come  now  show  me  Khizr.'  That  poor  man 
said,  '  My  king,  grace  and  bounty  are  the  work  of  kings ;  for- 
give my  sin.'  Quoth  the  king,  '  I  made  a  pact ;  till  I  have 
killed  thee  I  shall  not  have  fulfilled  it ! '  And  he  looked  to  his 
chief  vezir  and  said,  '  How  should  this  be  done  ?  '  Quoth  the 
vezir,  *  This  man  should  be  hewn  in  many  pieces,  and  these 
hung  up  on  butcher's  hooks,  that  others  may  see  and  lie  not 
before  the  king.'  Said  that  radiant  being,  '  True  spake  the 
vezir ;  all  things  return  to  their  origin.'  Then  the  king  looked 
to  the  second  vezir  and  said,  '  What  sayest  thou  ? '  He  replied, 
'  This  man  should  be  boiled  in  a  caldron.'  Said  that  radiant 
being,  '  True  spake  the  vezir ;  all  things  return  to  their  origin.' 
The  king  looked  to  the  third  vezir  and  said,  '  What  sayest 
thou  ?  '  The  vezir  replied,  '  This  man  should  be  hewn  in  small 
pieces  and  baked  in  an  oven.'  Again  said  that  elder,  '  True 
spake  the  vezir ;  all  things  return  to  their  origin.' 

"  Then  quoth  the  king  to  the  fourth  vezir,  '  Let  us  see,  what 
sayest  thou?'  The  vezir  replied,  'O  king,  the  wealth  thou 
gavest  this  poor  creature  was  for  the  love  of  Khizr  (peace 
on  him!).     He,  thinking  to  find  him,  accepted  it;    now  that 


THE   SEARCH   FOR   KHIZR 


3^3 


he  has  not  found  him  he  seeks  pardon;  this  were  befitting, 
that  thou  set  free  this  poor  creature  for  the  love  of  Khizr.' 
Said  that  elder,  '  True  spake  the  vezir ;  all  things  return  to 
their  origin.'  Then  the  king  said  to  the  elder,  '  O  elder,  all 
my  vezirs  have  said  different  things,  contrary  the  one  to  the 
other,  and  thou  hast  said  concerning  each  of  them,  "  True 
spake  the  vezir;  all  things  return  to  their  origin.'  What  is 
the  reason  thereof  ? '  That  elder  replied,  '  O  king,  thy  first 
vezir  is  a  butcher's  son,  therefore  did  he  draw  to  his  origin: 
thy  second  vezir  is  a  cook's  son,  he  likewise  proposed  a  pun- 
ishment as  became  his  origin ;  thy  third  vezir  is  a  baker's  son, 
he  likewise  proposed  a  punishment  as  became  his  origin ;  but 
thy  fourth  vezir  is  cf  gentle  birth,  compassion  therefore  be- 
comes his  origin;  so  he  had  compassion  on  that  hapless  one 
and  sought  to  do  good  and  counselled  liberation.  O  king,  all 
things  draw  to  their  origin.'  ^ 

"  And  he  gave  the  king  much  counsel  and  at  last  said,  '  Lo, 
I  am  Khizr !  '  and  vanished.  Then  the  king  went  forth  from 
his  palace,  but  could  see  no  sign  or  trace  of  that  radiant  elder ; 
and  he  said,  'I  much  longed  to  see  Khizr  (peace  on  him!)  ; 
praise  be  to  God,  I  have  attained  thereto,  and  he  has  told  me 
the  origin  of  my  vezirs.'  And  he  commanded  that  they  gave 
that  poor  man  much  wealth. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst 
know  that  thy  vezirs  are  of  low  origin,  and  that  fidelity  will 
not  proceed  from  them.  In  this  matter  too  their  words  tally 
with  their  origin ;  lose  not  the  opportunity,  for  to  spare  an 
enemy  is  great  folly."  The  king  heard  this  story  from  the 
lady,  and  said,  "  To-morrow  will  I  roll  up  the  scroll  of  his 
Hfe." 

When  it  was  morning  and  the  world,  like  to  him  who  had 
won  to  Khizr,  was  illumined  with  light,  the  king  sat  upon  his 
throne  and  commanded  the  executioner  that  he  bring  the 
youth,  and  he  gave  the  word,  "  Smite  off  his  head."  There- 
upon the  fifth  vezir  came  forward  and  said,  "  O  king  of  the 
world,  slay  not  the  prince  thus  hastily,  and  cast  not  to  the 
winds  the  counsels  of  these  many  vezirs ;  for  as  they  take 
pearls  from  the  sea  and  string  them,  so  do  these  string  their 

*  Compare    Boethius    thus    translated       joysen  on  hir  retourninge  agayne  to  hir 
by  Chaucer:  All  thynges  seken  ayen  to        nature, 
hir  propre   course,    and   all    thynges   re- 


384  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

words ;  they  are  speakers  such  that  Mercury  in  the  sky  could 
not  match  their  suggestions.  O  king,  the  reason  of  that  which 
thy  vezirs  have  said  to  thee  is  this,  that  the  Apostle  (peace  on 
him!)  hath  said  that  whoso  seeth  his  king  do  an  act  contrary 
to  the  law,  and  hindereth  him  not  therefrom,  hath  departed 
from  the  Canon.  Now,  O  king,  deem  not  the  words  of  thy 
vezirs  mistaken ;  it  is  even  as  they  have  said,  *  Let  him  who 
would  see  Khizr  in  the  flesh,  look  upon  a  wise,  accomplished 
and  learned  vezir.'  And  again,  '  If  one  seek  to  do  a  righteous 
deed,  let  him  arrange  the  affair  of  some  poor  creature  with  a 
king.'  Mayhap  the  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  Khizr  and 
a  vezir."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."  Quoth  the 
vezir : 

The  Vezir  and  Khizr 

"  There  was,  of  old  time,  a  king  who  had  an  experienced 
vezir;  and  Khizr  (peace  on  him!)  would  ever  come  to  that 
vezir.  One  day  the  vezir  looked  upon  the  affairs  of  the  world, 
how  they  abode  not  with  anyone ;  and  he  withdrew  from  the 
vezirship,  and  chose  the  corner  of  retirement,  and  gave  him- 
self up  to  worship.  A  long  time  passed,  and  Khizr  (peace  on 
him!)  never  once  came  to  him.  The  vezir  marvelled  and  said, 
'Why  does  not  Khizr  (peace  on  him!)  come  to  me?  Now 
ought  he  to  come  every  day.'  Then  he  said,  '  There  must  in- 
deed be  some  reason  for  this.'  Thereupon  he  saw  that  Khizr 
had  appeared,  and  he  said,  '  O  Khizr,  while  I  was  vezir  thou 
didst  ever  come  to  me,  is  it  for  that  I  have  withdrawn  from 
the  world  that  thou  comest  not  now?  '  Khizr  (peace  on  him!) 
replied,  '  O  vezir,  outwardly  thou  didst  perform  the  duties  of 
vezir,  inwardly  I  did ;  therefore  was  there  a  bond  between 
us ;  now  thou  hast  withdrawn  therefrom,  and  that  bond  is  gone 
from  between  us,  so  I  come  not  to  thee.'  When  the  vezir 
heard  these  words  from  Khizr,  he  went  and  asked  back  the 
vezirship,  and  he  received  it,  and  Khizr  (peace  on  him!)  came 
to  him  as  before  and  ceased  not. 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may  hearken 
to  the  vezir's  words  and  follow  them,  and  pass  his  life  in  hap- 
piness. Beware,  O  king,  be  not  overhasty  in  this  affair,  that 
afterward  thou  suffer  not  remorse."  ;When  the  king  heard 
this  story  from  the  vezir,  he  sent  the  prince  to  the  prison 


THE   SHERBET-SELLER   AND   THE   MOOR  385 

and  went  himself  to  the  chase,  and  that  day  he  took  much 
game. 

In  the  evening  he  came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to 
greet  him,  and  they  sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  asked 
about  the  youth ;  the  king  said,  "  This  day  again  such  an  one 
of  my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him,  and  I  sent  him  to  the 
prison."  Quoth  the  lady,  "  O  my  king,  how  good  were  it, 
could  he  be  reformed  by  such  conduct;  but  this  youth  is  in- 
capable of  reform ;  for  he  resembles  that  snake  which  first 
stings  his  mother  as  she  bears  him  and  kills  her,  and  then 
stings  his  father  and  kills  him.  God  most  high  will  take 
vengeance  on  him;  and  his  eyes  will  be  blinded  as  though  he 
had  looked  upon  an  emerald.®  If  a  drop  of  an  April  shower 
fall  upon  a  snake  it  becomes  poison,  but  if  it  fall  into  an 
oyster  it  becomes  a  pearl ;  ^^  and  if  the  Koran,  great  of  glory, 
fall  upon  a  believer's  heart,  it  is  faith  and  knowledge.  And  it 
is  notorious  that  whoever  nurses  a  snake  falls  at  last  a  prey 
to  its  poison.  A  certain  man  formed  a  friendship  with  a  snake 
and  used  every  day  to  bring  it  a  portion  of  food.  He  went 
to  the  snake's  hole  and  laid  it  there,  and  the  snake  would 
put  its  head  out  of  its  hole  and  eat  that  food,  and  when  it 
was  satisfied  it  would  frolic  about,  and  that  man  would  play 
with  it.  One  day  he  came  and  saw  that  the  snake  was  out 
of  its  place  and  quite  stiff  from  cold ;  '  O  poor  thing/  he  said, 
and  took  and  put  it  in  his  bosom.  When  the  snake  got  warm  it 
at  once  raised  its  head  and  stung  that  unhappy  man,  and  killed 
him,  and  fled  and  entered  its  hole.  And  thus  have  they  said, 
that  if  one  foster  a  swine,  that  brute  will  not  leave  off  till  in 
the  end  it  hurt  him.  It  is  even  as  the  story  of  that  sherbet- 
seller  and  the  Moor."  Said  the  king,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear." 
Quoth  the  lady : 

The  Sherbet-seller  and  the  Moor 

"  There  was  of  old  time  in  a  great  city  a  sherbet-seller,  and 
he  had  a  son,  a  loveling  of  the  age,  who  was  so  fair  that  he 
seemed  a  second  Joseph ;  ^  and  he  used  to  sell  sherbet  in  the 
shop.    The  folk  would  come  to  gaze  upon  this  youth's  beauty, 

"  The  emerald  was  supposed  to   have  ^^  There   is   an   Eastern   myth   to   that 

the  effect  of  blinding  snakes  when  they        effect. 

looked  upon  it.  '  Joseph      is     the     type     of     youthful 

beauty. 

25 


386  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

and  they  would  give  a  sequin  for  each  cup  o£  sherbet,  and 
drain  it;  and  whenever  they  drank  a  cup  they  would  say  it 
was  the  water  of  life.  Now  one  day  a  swarthy  Moor  came 
to  that  country;  and  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  youth,  the  hap- 
less Moor's  power  of  speech  left  him,  and  he  could  not  stir  one 
step  from  where  he  stood,  but  leaned  against  the  opposite  wall 
bewildered.  After  a  time  he  recovered  his  understanding, 
and,  rising  and  falling  like  one  drunk,  he  came  up  as  best 
he  could  to  the  youth,  and  gave  a  sequin  and  drank  a  cup  of 
sherbet,  and  went  away.  For  a  time  he  came  every  day  and 
drank  cups  of  sherbet  at  a  sequin  each,  and  looked  on  the 
beauty  of  the  youth. 

"  One  day  the  youth  told  this  thing  to  his  father,  and  his 
father  perceived  that  the  Moor  was  ravished  with  the  boy,  and 
said,  '  O  my  son,  bring  that  Moor  to  the  house  to-morrow, 
and  let  us  see  what  manner  of  man  he  is.'  The  next  day  when 
the  Moor  came  to  the  youth,  he  invited  him  to  his  house,  and 
took  him  and  went  to  his  father.  After  they  had  eaten,  the 
father  of  the  boy  asked  of  the  Moor's  case  and  dwelling.  The 
Moor  saw  what  his  intention  was,  and  answered,  '  I  have  no 
dwelling,  I  am  a  stranger.'  The  boy's  father  said,  '  Thou  art 
a  stranger ;  we  will  give  thee  a  dwelling,  stay  with  us.'  The 
Moor  was  glad  and  counted  it  a  boon  to  his  soul ;  even  as 
they  have  said,  *  The  loved  one's  ward  is  paradise.'  So  they 
showed  the  Moor  a  dwelling.  He  abode  for  some  days,  and 
gradually  his  love  for  the  boy  increased ;  and  one  day  he 
showed  him  a  precious  stone,  and  said,  '  An  thou  let  me  take 
one  kiss  of  thee.  I  will  give  thee  this  stone.'  With  a  thousand 
graces  the  boy  consented,  and  the  Moor  gave  him  the  stone 
and  kissed  him,  and  said,  '  My  life,  my  master,  I  love  thee  from 
heart  and  soul,  flee  me  not ;  I  know  a  talisman  which  will 
open  before  thee ;  if  thou  wilt  come  with  me  I  will  open  it, 
and  give  thee  so  much  gold  that  thou  shalt  never  again  know 
poverty.' 

"  The  youth  told  this  thing  to  his  father,  and  his  father  gave 
him  leave ;  so  the  Moor  took  him,  and  they  went  without  the 
city ;  and  he  brought  him  to  a  ruin.  Now  there  was  a  well 
there,  full  to  the  mouth  with  water ;  and  the  Moor  wrote  on 
a  piece  of  paper  and  laid  it  on  the  well,  and  thereupon  all  the 
water  vanished  from  the  well.     The  Moor  and  the  boy  de- 


THE   SHERBET-SELLER   AND   THE   MOOR  387 

scended  to  the  bottom  of  the  well,  and  saw  a  locked  door.  The 
Moor  wrote  a  charm  and  fastened  it  on  the  lock,  and  it  opened 
forthwith.  They  went  in  and  saw  a  negro  holding  in  one  hand 
a  great  stone  to  throw  upon  anyone  who  entered.  The  Moor 
repeated  a  charm  and  blew  upon  the  negro,  and  the  negro  laid 
the  stone  that  was  in  his  hand  upon  the  ground,  and  let  them 
pass.  They  went  on  and  saw  a  dome  of  crystal,  and  at  the 
door  of  the  domed  building  were  two  dragons,  who  stood 
facing  one  the  other  with  open  mouths  like  caverns.  When 
they  came  near,  these  flew  at  them,  but  the  Moor  repeated  a 
charm  and  blew  on  them,  and  they  vanished. 

"  Then  the  door  of  the  domed  building  opened  and  they 
went  in,  and  they  saw  that  in  one  corner  thereof  was  gold, 
in  another  corner  silver,  in  another  corner  all  manner  of  jew- 
els, and  in  another  corner  was  raised  a  throne  upon  black  earth, 
and  on  that  throne  was  a  coffin,  and  in  that  coffin  lay  a  re- 
nowned man  dead.  Upon  his  breast  was  a  gold  tablet,  and 
on  that  tablet  was  written :  '  I  was  a  king,  and  I  ruled  the 
whole  earth,  and  whithersoever  I  went  in  this  world  I  con- 
quered. I  had  many  many  champions  and  great  wealth  and 
treasure.  Some  little  of  the  wealth  I  owned  I  gathered  here. 
Me  too  death  spared  not ;  but  made  me  even  as  though  I  had 
not  come  into  the  world.  Now,  O  thou  who  seest  me  in  this 
plight,  take  warning  by  me,  and  remember  my  soul  in  prayer, 
and  be  not  presumptuous  through  the  wealth  of  this  world  for 
a  few  days'  life.'  And  that  was  all.  Then  the  ]\Ioor  and  the 
youth  took  as  much  as  they  desired  of  the  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  stones  and  black  earth,  which  was  the  philosopher's 
stone,  and  went  out.  The  Moor  repeated  a  charm  and  blew 
upon  the  well,  and  it  was  again  all  full  of  water ;  and  he  went 
back  with  the  boy  to  their  house,  and  they  gave  themselves 
up  to  mirth  and  merriment.  Day  and  night  they  ceased  not 
therefrom  an  instant. 

"  One  day  the  boy  asked  the  Moor  to  teach  him  the  charms 
he  had  repeated  in  the  talisman.  The  Moor  consented,  and 
instructed  him  for  many  days  and  taught  him.  One  day,  of  a 
sudden,  the  boy  said  to  his  father,  '  O  father,  I  have  learned 
the  whole  of  the  charms  for  the  talisman,  so  we  have  no  longer 
any  need  of  the  Moor ;  let  us  poison  him.'  But  his  father  con- 
sented not,  and  said,  '  Let  us  turn  him  away ;  let  him  go  else- 


388  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

whither.'  Quoth  the  youth,  '  The  turning  away  of  him  would 
not  do;  he  is  a  great  master,  he  might  do  us  an  injury,  so  let 
us  poison  him  ere  he  play  us  some  trick ;  and  I  will  take  as 
much  gold  and  silver  as  is  needful  from  that  buried  treasure.' 
The  Moor  heard  him  and  knew  that  fairness  purposed  foul- 
ness, and  he  straightway  disappeared  from  there. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  no  good  has  ever  happened  to  anyone  from  youths. 
Yea,  O  king,  be  not  negligent,  kill  the  youth,  else  the  affair  will 
end  in  evil."  When  the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  lady  he 
was  wroth  and  said,  "  On  the  morrow  will  I  slay  him." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  sat  upon  his  throne  and 
caused  the  youth  to  be  brought,  and  commanded  the  execu- 
tioner, "  Smite  off  his  head."  The  sixth  vezir  came  forward 
and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  beware,  act  not  on  anyone's 
word  till  the  crime  be  proved  against  the  prince ;  for  the  resur- 
rection is  at  hand,  and  lying  and  cunning  and  craft  abound. 
The  wise  man  is  he  who  turns  ofif  sin  and  evil  that  he  may 
not  afterward  begin  to  bite  upon  the  finger  with  regret  and 
remorse  and  be  repentant,  and  who  takes  the  woful  by  the 
hand  and  gives  happiness  to  the  unhappy,  and  who  repulses 
not  him  who  comes  to  his  door,  but  sees  his  needs  and  pro- 
vides for  him,  and  who  never  lets  himself  be  deceived  by  a 
woman's  word ;  for  these  laugh  in  one's  face.  Mayhap  my 
king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  the  tailor  youth  and  the  wom- 
an."   The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."    Quoth  the  vezir : 


The  Tailor  and  the  Woman 

"Thus  relate  they:  In  the  time  of  Saint  Jesus  (peace  on 
him!)  there  was  a  tailor  youth  who  had  a  fair  wife,  and  they 
greatly  loved  one  another.  One  day  they  made  a  pact  that  if 
the  woman  died  first,  her  husband  should  take  no  other  wife, 
but  throw  his  arms  round  her  tombstone,  and  weep  till  morn- 
ing ;  and  if  the  youth  died  first,  the  woman  should  do  likewise. 
By  the  decree  of  God  the  woman  died.  After  the  tailor  had 
wept  and  lamented  he  buried  her,  and  fulfilled  his  pact,  and 
threw  his  arms  round  his  wife's  tombstone  and  wept.  And 
he  constantly  kept  watch  over  the  grave.  One  day  Jesus 
(peace  on  him!)    when  passing  by  that  place,  saw  a  youth 


THE   TAILOR   AND   THE   WOMAN  389 

weeping  and  embracing  a  tombstone,  and  he  went  up  to  him 
and  asked  why  he  wept.    The  youth  related  all. 

"Then  Jesus  (peace  on  him!)  prayed,  and  the  woman  be- 
came alive,  and  came  forth  from  the  grave  in  her  shroud. 
And  Jesus  (peace  on  him!)  proceeded  on  his  way.  The  youth 
said,  '  One  cannot  go  thus  in  a  shroud ;  wait  thou  here  a  mo- 
ment till  I  go  and  fetch  clothes  from  the  house ;  then  thou 
shalt  put  on  these  clothes,  and  we  will  go  together.'  And  he 
went  quickly  to  the  house,  leaving  the  woman  there.  Suddenly 
the  son  of  the  king  of  that  country  passed  that  spot,  and  saw 
a  fair  woman  sitting  wrapped  in  a  shroud.  As  soon  as  the 
prince  saw  that  woman  he  fell  in  love  with  her  from  heart  and 
soul,  and  he  said  to  her,  '  Who  art  thou  ? '  She  answered,  '  I 
am  a  stranger ;  a  robber  has  stripped  me.'  Thereupon  the 
prince  ordered  his  servants  to  take  the  woman  to  the  palace, 
and  clothe  her  in  clean  garments. 

"  When  the  youth  returned  with  the  clothes  he  found  not 
the  woman  there,  and  he  cried  and  asked  of  the  passers-by. 
No  one  had  seen  her.  The  poor  man,  asking  and  asking,  met 
the  prince's  servants.  These  asked  the  tailor  why  he  wept. 
He  replied,  '  For  a  time  my  wife  was  dead ;  but  now,  praise  be 
to  God,  she  is  become  alive  through  the  prayer  of  the  mes- 
senger Jesus ;  I  went  to  fetch  her  clothes,  but  she  has  dis- 
appeared :  therefore  do  I  weep.'  They  answered,  '  The  prince 
sent  that  lady  to  the  palace  this  day.'  Thereupon  the  tailor 
went  before  the  prince  and  complained,  saying,  '  The  woman 
thou  hast  taken  is  my  wife.'  The  prince  asked  the  lady,  she 
denied  and  said,  '  This  is  the  robber  who  stripped  me  of  my 
clothes  and  made  ofif;  praise  be  to  God,  if  thou  kill  him  now, 
thou  shalt  gain  great  reward.'  The  prince  commanded  that 
they  bound  both  the  tailor's  hands  behind  his  back.  Although 
the  poor  tailor  cried  aloud,  it  was  no  avail ;  they  put  a  rope 
round  his  neck  and  led  him  to  the  gallows. 

"  Then  they  perceived  Saint  Jesus  on  the  road,  and  they 
waited.  When  he  came  near  he  asked  of  their  case,  and  they 
told  him.  Then  he  bade  them  stop  and  went  himself  to  the 
prince ;  they  called  the  woman,  and  he  said,  '  This  woman  is 
the  wife  of  yonder  youth ;  I  prayed  and  she  became  alive.' 
When  the  woman  saw  the  messenger  she  was  unable  to  deny, 
but  spake  the  truth.     Jesus   (peace  on  him!)   prayed  again. 


390  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

and  that  woman  died;  and  the  youth  was  rescued  from  the 
abyss  whereinto  he  had  fallen,  and  he  repented  of  his  having 
wept  so  long  a  time, 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst 
know  that  the  inclinations  of  women  are  ever  to  works  of 
evil,  craft,  and  wickedness."  And  he  kissed  the  ground  and 
made  intercession  for  the  prince's  life.  When  the  king  heard 
this  story  from  the  vezir  he  sent  the  prince  to  the  prison,  and 
went  himself  to  the  chase. 

In  the  evening  he  returned  from  the  chase  and  came  to  the 
palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they  sat  down. 
After  the  repast  the  lady  fell  to  speaking  about  the  youth.  The 
king  said,  "  To-day  such  an  one  of  my  vezirs  made  interces- 
sion for  him,  so  I  have  again  sent  him  to  the  prison."  Quoth 
the  lady,  "  O  king,  thou  dost  not  believe  my  words ;  but  at 
length,  in  the  near  future,  some  hurt  will  befall  thee  from 
the  youth ;  for  this  night  I  saw  a  vision,  which  it  is,  as  it  were, 
a  duty  on  me  to  tell  my  king,  and  incumbent  on  thee  to  hear." 
Said  the  king,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."  The  lady  said,  "  This 
night  thou  wast  holding  in  thy  hand  a  golden  ball,  and  that 
ball  was  adorned  and  set  round  with  rubies  and  jewels,  and 
its  brilliancy  lit  up  the  world ;  and  thou  wast  playing,  throw- 
ing up  the  ball  and  catching  it  in  thy  hand.  And  this  youth 
was  sitting  by  thy  side  watching,  and  ever  and  anon  he  asked 
for  the  ball,  but  thou  gavest  him  it  not. 

"  Of  a  sudden,  while  thou  wast  heedless,  he  snatched  the 
ball,  and  for  that  thou  hadst  not  given  it  him  when  he  had 
asked  was  he  angry,  and  he  struck  the  ball  upon  a  stone,  so 
that  it  was  shattered  in  pieces.  And  I  was  grieved,  and  I 
went  and  picked  up  the  fragments  of  the  ball,  and  gave  them 
into  thy  hand,  and  thou  didst  look  upon  those  fragments  and 
didst  marvel,  and  with  that  I  awoke."  Quoth  the  king,  "  What 
may  the  interpretation  of  this  vision  be?  "  The  lady  said,  "  I 
interpreted  this  dream :  that  ball  is  thy  kingdom ;  and  this 
youth's  snatching  it  from  thy  hand  is  this,  that  this  youth 
came  to  me  and  said,  '  I  wish  to  kill  my  father  and  sit  upon 
the  throne,  and  I  desire  to  make  thee  my  wife;  and  all  the 
men  of  the  kingdom  have  turned  to  me,  and  now  the  king- 
dom is  wholly  mine,  do  thou  likewise  submit  to  me  ? '  Had  I 
submitted  to  him,  ere  now  he  had  killed  thee  and  accomplished 


STORY   OF   THE   ADOPTED   SON  391 

his  affair.  Ah !  the  fortune  and  auspiciousness  of  my  king 
averted  it.  And  his  striking  the  ball  upon  the  stone  is  this, 
that  if  he  had  become  king  after  thee,  he  would  have  utterly- 
ruined  the  kingdom.  And  my  going  and  picking  up  the  frag- 
ments and  giving  them  to  the  king  is  this,  that  for  that  I 
obeyed  not  the  youth,  but  came  and  told  the  king,  he  seized 
him,  and  the  kingdom  remained  in  his  hand.  But  had  not  I 
done  so,  know  of  a  surety  that  ere  now  the  kingdom  would 
have  passed  from  thy  hand ;  yea,  thy  life,  too,  would  have 
gone.  That  is  the  interpretation  of  the  dream.  O  king,  the 
story  of  this  degenerate  youth  resembles  that  of  a  certain  king's 
son ;  mayhap  my  king  has  not  heard  it."  The  king  said,  "  Tell 
on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  lady : 

Story  of  the  Adopted  Son 

"  In  the  palace  of  the  world  there  was  a  king  in  whose  coun- 
try was  a  robber,  such  that  none  could  escape  from  his  hands. 
And  in  that  king's  country  was  a  great  khoja.  That  khoja  and 
his  wife  were  travelling  with  some  money,  when  of  a  sudden, 
while  they  were  on  the  road  they  met  that  robber.  He  forth- 
with stripped  them  and  made  them  naked  and  took  them  cap- 
tives. He  put  their  clothes  in  the  cave  which  he  had  chosen 
for  his  dwelling,  and  bound  both  the  khoja's  hands  behind  his 
back  and  laid  him  in  a  corner ;  and  then  he  gave  himself  up  to 
mirth  and  merriment  with  the  woman.  After  seven  or  eight 
months  the  robber  released  the  khoja  and  his  wife.  So  these 
went  forth  from  the  cave,  and  saying,  '  There  is  nor  strength 
nor  power  save  in  God,  the  high,  the  mighty,'  they  set  their 
faces  in  a  certain  direction,  and  fared  on  till  one  day  they 
entered  a  city.  And  they  took  a  dwelling  in  that  city  and  set- 
tled there. 

"  When  the  woman's  time  was  come  she  gave  birth  to  a 
boy;  but  as  they  knew  that  the  boy  was  the  robber's,  they 
would  not  accept  him,  and  they  laid  him  at  the  door  of  the 
mosque.  The  king  of  that  country  happened  to  pass  by  and 
asked  concerning  him,  and  the  people  who  were  present  an- 
swered that  his  parents  had  no  means  of  bringing  him  up  and 
so  had  left  him  there.  Now  the  king  had  no  son,  and  he  took 
pity  on  this  child  and  adopted  him  and  made  him  his  son,  and 


392  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

said,  '  If  God  give  him  life  and  he  die  not,  he  shall  sit  on  the 
throne  after  me  and  be  king.'  So  they  took  the  boy  and 
brought  him  to  the  palace,  and  appointed  him  a  nurse,  and 
made  him  clothes  of  all  manner  of  stuffs.  Day  by  day  he 
grew,  and  when  he  had  reached  his  seventh  year  he  was  a 
moon-faced  boy,  such  that  he  who  looked  upon  his  counte- 
nance desired  to  look  thereon  again. 

"  And  the  king  appointed  a  teacher  and  a  governor  for  the 
boy,  and  he  learned  science  and  good  conduct.  When  he  had 
reached  his  twelfth  year  he  had  acquired  sciences  and  accom- 
plishments. After  that,  they  instructed  him  in  horsemanship ; 
that  too  he  acquired  in  a  few  days.  And  every  day  he  would 
go  into  the  square  and  take  a  ball  and  play ;  and  all  the  world 
marvelled  at  his  beauty  and  dexterity,  and  the  king  felt  de- 
light as  often  as  he  looked  upon  him.  Now  the  king  had  also 
a  daughter  peerless  in  beauty.  In  the  course  of  a  few  years 
this  girl  grew  up  and  reached  the  age  of  puberty,  and  the  boy 
fell  in  love  with  her.  He  would  brood  over  this,  saying,  '  Alas ! 
would  she  were  not  my  sister,  that  I  might  marry  her.'  Now 
the  boy  was  a  valiant  youth,  such  that  the  king's  emirs  and 
vezirs  applauded  his  valor ;  and  he  overcame  the  king's  enemies 
who  were  round  about,  and  made  them  subject  to  his  father; 
and  no  one  could  stand  before  his  sword.  The  king  had  be- 
trothed his  daughter  to  another  king's  son,  and  when  the  time 
was  come  they  wished  to  take  the  girl  from  the  king. 

"  And  the  king  commanded  that  they  should  make  ready ; 
and  thereupon  the  youth,  to  make  clear  what  was  in  his  heart, 
asked  a  legist  this  question,  *  If  a  person  have  a  garden  and 
the  fruit  of  that  garden  ripen,  should  that  person  eat  it  or 
another  ? '  The  legist  replied,  '  It  were  better  that  person 
should  eat  it  than  another.'  Now  the  prince  had  a  learned 
companion,  and  that  companion  knew  the  prince's  desire ;  for 
science  is  of  three  kinds :  one  the  science  of  the  faith,  another 
the  science  of  physiognomy,  and  another  the  science  of  the 
body ;  but  unless  there  be  the  science  of  physiognomy,  other 
science  avails  not.  Straightway  that  companion  said,  '  O 
prince,  if  there  be  in  that  garden  you  ask  of,  a  fruit  forbidden 
by  God  most  high,  it  were  better  that  the  owner  eat  it  not ; 
but  if  God  most  high  have  not  forbidden  it,  then  is  it  lawful 
for  that  person  to  eat  it.'     Quoth  the  prince,  '  Thou  knowest 


STORY   OF   THE   ADOPTED   SON  393 

not  as  much  as  a  legist ;  yon  man  is  a  legist ;  I  look  to  his 
decision.'  And  he  arose  and  went  to  his  sister's  palace,  and 
that  hour  he  took  his  sister  and  went  forth  the  city,  and  made 
for  another  city. 

"  Then  the  slave  girls  with  great  crying  informed  the  king, 
and  thereupon  the  king's  senses  forsook  him,  and  he  com- 
manded, *  Let  the  soldiers  forthwith  mount  their  horses  and 
pursue  the  youth  and  seize  him.'  Straightway  the  soldiers 
mounted  and  went  after  the  youth ;  and  the  king  said,  '  From 
the  low  born  fidelity  comes  not ; '  and  he  repented  him  of  his 
having  taken  him  to  son.  The  king  and  the  soldiers  appeared 
behind  the  youth,  and  the  latter  sprang  into  a  hiding-place. 
And  while  the  king  and  the  soldiers  were  passing  he  slew  the 
king  from  that  hiding-place ;  and  when  the  soldiers  saw  that 
the  king  was  slain  they  each  one  fled  in  a  different  direction, 
and  were  scattered  in  confusion.  And  the  youth  took  the  girl 
and  went  to  a  city  and  took  a  house  therein,  and  made  her 
his  wife ;  and  he  adopted  the  whole  of  what  had  been  his 
father's  business,  and  turned  robber. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story,  for  that  thou  mayst 
know  that  the  desire  of  this  degenerate  youth  is  to  kill  his 
father  as  that  low-born  one  slew  his ;  the  rest  the  king  knows." 
When  the  king  heard  this  strange  thing  from  the  lady,  he  said, 
"  On  the  morrow  will  I  slay  him." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  went  and  sat  upon  his  throne, 
and  he  caused  the  youth  to  be  brought  and  commanded  the 
executioner,  "  Smite  ofî  his  head."  Whereupon  the  seventh 
vezir  came  forward  and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  first  look 
to  the  end  of  every  business  thou  undertakest  and  then  act  ac- 
cordingly ;  for  on  the  day  of  battle  it  is  needful,  first  to  think 
of  the  wav  of  retreat  and  then  to  set  to,  so  that  when  it  is  '  or 
fate  or  state,'  one  may  save  his  life.  They  have  said,  '  On 
the  day  of  strife  be  not  far  from  the  nobles :  in  the  chase  and 
the  palace  go  not  near  them ; '  and  '  He  is  profitable  in  the 
councils  of  a  king,  who  in  the  day  of  security  looks  to  the 
matters  of  war  and  the  provision  of  weapons,  and  stints  not 
money  to  the  troops  that  these  on  the  day  of  battle  may  be 
lavish  with  their  lives  in  the  king's  cause.'  It  is  incumbent  on 
the  king  that  he  kill  those  who  flee  when  they  see  the  enemy 
(and  after  that  the  foes)  ;  for  they  resemble  those  who  give 


394  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

up  a  stronghold  to  the  adversary.  And  they  have  said  that  a 
good  scribe  and  a  man  who  knows  the  science  of  the  sword  are 
very  needful  for  a  king;  for  with  the  pen  is  wealth  collected, 
and  with  the  sword  are  countries  taken.  Mayhap  the  king  has 
not  heard  the  story  of  a  certain  king  and  a  vezir."  The  king 
said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

The  King  and  the  Vezir 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  king  and  he  had 
two  vezirs,  one  of  whom  was  wise  and  learned  and  one  of 
whom  was  foolish  and  ignorant.  On  the  king's  taking  counsel 
of  them  concerning  the  management  of  the  affairs  of  the  state, 
the  ignorant  vezir  said,  '  O  king,  expend  not  money,  give  not 
money  to  the  soldiers  and  warriors,  or  if  thou  give,  give  little ; 
and  let  him  who  will  stay,  stay ;  and  let  him  who  will  not  stay, 
go.  When  thou  hast  money  on  the  battle  day,  many  will  be 
soldiers  to  thee :  where  the  honey  is,  there  surely  come  the 
flies.'  His  words  seemed  good  to  the  king,  who  one  day  said 
to  the  learned  vezir,  '  Get  me  a  few  men  who  will  be  content 
with  little  pay.'  On  the  vezir's  replying,  '  Men  without  pay 
are  not  to  be  had,'  the  king  said,  '  I  shall  have  money  when 
anything  befalls,  and  shall  find  many  men.'  Quoth  the  vezir, 
'  So  be  it,  I  shall  find  men  for  the  king  who  will  take  no  pay 
and  stir  not  day  or  night  from  his  gate.'  The  king  was  glad 
and  said,  '  Get  them,  let  us  see.' 

"  The  vezir  went  and  found  a  painter  and  brought  him,  and 
he  painted  a  large  room  in  the  palace  so  that  the  four  walls 
of  that  room  were  covered  with  pictured  figures  of  men,  and 
he  decked  all  the  figures  with  arms  and  implements  of  war, 
he  depicted  a  mounted  and  armed  host  standing  rank  on  rank. 
When  it  was  completed  the  vezir  called  the  king,  and  the  king 
arose  and  went  with  him  to  that  wall  of  pictures,  and  he  showed 
the  king  the  whole  of  them.  The  king  looked  and  said,  '  What 
are  these  pictures?  why  hast  thou  ranged  these  here  rank  on 
rank?  '  The  vezir  replied,  '  O  king,  thou  desiredst  of  me  men 
without  pay ;  lo,  these  youths  want  no  pay ;  so  they  will  serve 
the  king.'  The  king  said,  *  There  is  no  life  in  these ;  how  can 
they  serve  ?  '  The  vezir  answered,  '  O  king,  if  lifeless  pictures 
will  not  serve,  no  more  will  payless  soldiers  serve.     Fief  and 


THE    KING   AND   THE   VEZIR  395 

pay  are  as  the  life  of  the  soldier ;  when  thou  givest  not  a  man 
his  fief  or  pay,  it  is  as  though  thou  tookest  away  his  life ;  judge 
if  a  lifeless  man  could  serve.' 

"  Again, '  O  king,  if  a  paid  army  be  not  needful  for  thee,  these 
will  suffice;  but  living  men  require  to  eat  and  drink.  If  they 
get  no  pay  they  will  not  sacrifice  their  lives  in  the  cause  of 
the  king  or  face  the  enemy ;  but  they  will  hate  the  king  and 
turn  from  him  and  evil  will  befall  the  king ;  but  if  the  king  be 
bountiful  they  will  obey.  Thus  a  noble  had  a  young  steward 
who  used  to  serve  him.  One  day  the  noble  asked  the  youth 
his  name.  He  replied,  "  God  on  thee,  my  name  is  Wittol." 
Said  the  noble,  "  Can  anyone  be  so  called  ?  "  The  youth  an- 
swered, "  Anyhow  it  is  my  nickname,  never  mind."  So  they 
used  to  call  that  youth  Wittol  so  long  as  he  was  at  that  noble's 
gate.  One  day  he  went  from  that  noble's  gate  to  another's. 
One  day  that  noble  in  whose  service  he  had  been  happened 
to  meet  him,  when  he  cried  out,  "  Ho,  Wittol,  how  art  thou  ?  " 
The  youth  replied,  "  O  noble,  say  not  so  again,  or  thou  shalt 
see."  The  noble  said,  "  My  life,  thou  didst  tell  me  Wittol 
was  thy  name ;  why  art  thou  now  angered  ?  "  The  youth  an- 
swered, "  Then  did  I  serve  thee,  and  thou  bestowedst  on  me 
worlds  of  bounties,  so  though  thou  calledst  me  Wittol,  it 
ofîended  me  not ;  but  now  I  never  get  a  favor  from  this  man 
that  he  should  call  me  so." 

"  '  Quoth  the  noble,  "  He  who  called  thee  so  just  now  was  I, 
not  he ;  yet  thou  wast  angered  with  me."  The  youth  replied, 
"  God  forbid  I  should  be  angered  with  thee ;  but  if  to-morrow 
the  other  were  to  hear  that  word  from  thee,  he  too  would  wish 
to  use  it ;  now  was  I  angered  lest  he  should  call  me  so." ' 
Then  that  vezir  laid  a  dish  of  honey  before  the  king;  as  it 
was  night  no  flies  came  to  it.  And  the  vezir  said,  '  They  say 
that  where  there  is  honey,  thither  will  the  flies  surely  flock ; 
lo,  here  is  honey,  where  are  the  flies  ? '  Quoth  the  king,  '  It 
is  night,  therefore  they  come  not.'  The  vezir  said,  '  My  king, 
it  is  necessary  to  give  soldiers  money  at  the  proper  time;  for 
bringing  out  money  on  the  battle  day  is  hke  bringing  out 
honey  at  night.'  When  the  king  heard  these  words  from  the 
vezir  he  was  ashamed ;  but  he  greatly  applauded  the  vezir, 
and  thenceforth  did  whatsoever  he  advised. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst 


396  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

know  that  attendants  and  servants  are  needful  for  kings,  and 
that  masters  of  device  and  resource  are  requisite.  Kings 
should  take  counsel  of  their  vezirs  in  such  matters  that  no 
defect  may  mar  their  fortune  in  the  world  or  the  hereafter. 
Now  the  prince  is  thy  support  and  asylum,  and  all  the  folk, 
high  and  low,  ask  why  he  is  fettered  with  the  bonds  of  woe 
and  a  prisoner  of  the  dungeon.  And  slaying  the  prince  were 
like  slaying  the  vezirs  and  all  the  world.  Who  would  sit  on 
the  throne  after  thee  that  should  know  our  circumstances? 
All  the  grandees  of  the  empire  and  lords  of  the  state  and  noble 
seyyids  would  be  cast  down,  and  scattered  to  the  winds  and 
ruined.  This  woman  is  a  woman  lacking  in  religion  and  un- 
derstanding; to  give  ear  to  and  thus  countenance  those  who 
are  so  lacking  is  not  worthy  our  king."  And  he  kissed  the 
ground  and  begged  for  the  prince.  So  the  king  sent  him  to 
the  prison. 

Having  returned  from  the  chase,  the  king  went  to  the  palace, 
and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they  passed  on  and  sat 
down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  again  asked  for  news  of  the 
youth.  The  king  answered,  "  To-day  too  I  have  sent  him  to 
the  prison."  The  lady  said,  "  Thou  art  a  wise  and  just  king; 
we  will  talk  together  this  night  and  see  whether  or  no  by  prin- 
ciple, by  the  law,  and  by  custom,  thou  dost  sin  in  thus  vexing 
my  heart.  O  king,  there  are  many  rights  between  husband 
and  wife.  And  they  have  said  that  it  is  better  to  give  a  woman 
a  handful  of  words  than  a  skirtful  of  money.  Mayhap  the 
king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  the  sparrow  and  his  mate." 
The  king  said,  "  Relate  it,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  lady : 

The  Sparrow  and  His  Mate 

"  There  was  in  the  blessed  service  of  Saint  Solomon  (peace 
on  him ! )  a  little  sparrow  whose  many  tricks  and  gambols  were 
ever  pleasing  to  Saint  Solomon.  One  day  Saint  Solomon  saw 
not  the  sparrow  by  him,  and  he  commanded  the  simurgh  -  bird 
to  go  fetch  the  sparrow  wherever  he  might  find  him.  For 
a  long  time  the  sparrow  had  not  gone  to  his  mate,  and  his 
mate  had  upbraided  him,  saying,   '  For  this  long  time  thou 

-  A  fabulous  bird  of  great  size.  was  acquainted  with  the  language  of 
Solomon,  it  should  be  said,  according  beasts  and  birds,  with  whom  he  used 
to   the   Talmudic   and   Koranic   legends,        often   to  converse. 


THE   SPARROW   AND   HIS   MATE  397 

hast  left  me  and  been  with  Solomon ;  dost  thou  love  him 
more  than  me,  or  dost  thou  fear  him?  tell  me.'  The  spar- 
row answered,  '  By  God,  I  would  not  give  thee  for  the  world : 
I  am  come  but  once  to  earth  and  shall  not  come  again;  I  go 
to  Solomon  for  diversion,  I  have  no  dread  of  him.'  While 
he  was  talking  with  many  such  vaunts  and  boasts,  the  sîmurgh 
arrived  in  haste  and  heard  the  sparrow  bragging  and  said 
harshly,  '  Up,  let  us  off ;  Saint  Solomon  wants  thee.'  Then 
the  sparrow,  being  beside  his  mate,  plucked  up  courage  and 
replied,  '  Off,  begone,  I  will  not  go.'  The  sîmurgh  said,  '  I 
will  indeed  take  thee.'  The  sparrow  answered,  '  Off  with  thee, 
get  thee  hence,  or  I  will  seize  thee  and  rend  thee  in  twain,' 
Quoth  the  sîmurgh,  '  Until  I  take  thee  with  me  I  will  not 
budge  from  here.' 

"  Yet  the  sparrow  heeded  not,  and  the  sîmurgh  waited 
a  while,  but  the  sparrow  would  not  go.  Again  said  the  sîmurgh 
to  the  sparrow,  '  O  my  life,  give  me  an  answer.'  Quoth  the 
sparrow,  '  I  tell  thee  begone  from  here ;  if  thou  speak  again, 
my  heart  will  bid  me  do  somewhat  else ;  but  no,  I  will  not  slay 
thee.  Off,  begone,  or  I  will  do  thee  some  hurt,  and  then  go 
to  Solomon's  palace  and  smite  it  with  my  foot,  and  overturn 
it  from  its  foundations  and  pull  it  down  about  his  head ;  now 
then,  away  fool,  off,  begone  the  road  thou  camest.  Thou  chat- 
terest  here  and  sayest  not,  "  This  is  the  sparrow's  harem ;  he 
is  ill."  '  And  he  gave  the  sîmurgh  a  kick  such  that  the  latter 
knew  not  where  it  touched  him,  but  he  flew  thence  and  re- 
ported the  sparrow's  words  to  Saint  Solomon.  Solomon  said, 
*  When  the  sparrow  spake  these  words  where  was  he?  '  '  His 
mate  was  there,'  answered  the  sîmurgh.  Then  quoth  Solomon 
(peace  on  him!),  '  There  is  no  harm  in  one  thus  boasting  and 
bragging  in  his  own  house  before  his  wife.  Though  every 
stone  of  this  my  palace  was  raised  by  the  toil  of  these  many 
demons,  still  wonder  not  at  his  saying  when  beside  his  wife 
that  he  could  shatter  it  with  one  foot.'  And  this  was  pleasing 
to  Solomon  (peace  on  him!),  and  when  the  sparrow  came  he 
made  him  of  his  boon  companions. 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst  know 
that  one  should  thus  love  his  wife  and  vex  not  her  little  heart, 
so  that  his  wife  may  have  naught  against  him.  And  God 
most  high  has  given  thee  understanding;  weigh  my  words  in 


398  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

the  balance  of  understanding,  and  try  them  on  the  touchstone 
of  the  heart ;  if  they  stand  not  the  test,  I  shall  speak  no  more. 
I  tell  thee  that  this  youth  has  stretched  forth  his  hand  to  me 
and  has  been  treacherous,  and  has  moreover  purposed  against 
thy  life;  can  there  be  greater  crimes  than  these?  O  king, 
beware,  be  not  negligent  in  this  matter;  for  there  is  fear  and 
danger  for  thy  life  and  kingdom."  When  the  king  heard  these 
beguiling  words  of  the  lady  he  said,  "  On  the  morrow  will  I 
make  an  end  of  his  affair." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  sat  upon  his  throne  and  com- 
manded the  executioner  that  he  bring  the  youth,  and  he 
said,  "  Smite  off  his  head."  Whereupon  the  eighth  vezir 
came  forward  and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  slay  not  the 
prince  on  the  woman's  word.  One  should  be  forgiving ;  above 
all,  as  no  man  is  exempt  from  sin ;  for  they  have  said  that 
humanity  is  composed  of  forgetfulness.  A  man  falls  some- 
times through  the  intrigues  of  an  enemy  and  sometimes 
through  the  maleficence  of  the  cruel  sphere ;  or  else  he  attains 
prosperity  and  falls  into  adversity.  Mayhap  the  king  has  not 
heard  the  story  of  a  certain  vezir."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on, 
let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

The  Crafty  Vezir 

"  Of  old  time  there  was  a  king,  and  he  had  an  experienced 
and  learned  vezir.  One  day  the  latter  went  to  the  bath,  and 
while  he  was  sitting  beside  the  basin,  his  ring  fell  from  his 
finger  into  the  water ;  and  it  sank  not  in  the  water,  but  floated 
on  the  surface.  Whenever  the  vezir  saw  this  he  sent  men  to 
his  house  and  treasury,  saying,  '  Go  quickly,  and  hide  in  a  cer- 
tain place  whatsoever  I  have  in  the  treasury  of  gold  and  silver 
or  rubies  and  jewels ;  for  now  is  the  king  about  to  seize  me.' 
Then  they  went  and  acted  according  to  his  order.  And  as  the 
vezir  was  coming  out  from  the  bath,  men  from  the  king  arrived 
and  seized  him ;  and  they  put  him  in  prison  and  took  posses- 
sion of  whatever  he  had  in  his  house  and  treasury. 

"  One  day,  after  the  vezir  had  been  imprispned  for  a  certain 
time,  his  heart  longed  for  a  conserve  of  pomegranate  pips,  and 
he  ordered  the  jailer,  saying,  '  Make  me  ready  a  conserve  and 
bring  it,  for  my  heart  doth  greatly  desire  it.'     Now  the  king 


THE   CRAFTY   VEZİR 


399 


had  forbidden  that  dish,  and  the  jailer  was  afraid  and  made 
it  not.  And  the  vezir's  desire  increased  and  he  begged  it  of 
all  who  came  to  him,  but  no  one  made  it  and  brought  it  through 
fear  of  the  king.  Brief,  the  vezir  lay  for  a  year  in  prison  and 
longed  for  that  dish,  but  no  one  found  means  to  bring  him  it. 
One  day  the  jailer  made  shift  to  cook  that  dish  and  bring  it 
to  the  vezir.  As  soon  as  the  vezir  saw  it  he  was  glad ;  and 
they  put  it  before  him,  but  ere  he  had  stretched  out  his  hand 
to  it,  two  mice,  that  were  struggling  with  each  other  above,  fell 
into  the  dish,  and  the  food  became  unclean. 

"  Thereupon  the  vezir  said,  '  It  is  good ; '  and  he  arose  and 
commanded  his  servants,  saying,  '  Go,  furnish  the  mansion, 
put  that  wealth  you  hid  back  into  its  proper  place ;  my  king  is 
about  to  take  me  from  prison  and  make  me  vezir.'  Then  his 
retainers  went  and  did  as  he  had  commanded.  Hereupon  came 
a  man  from  the  king  who  took  the  vezir  from  the  prison  and 
brought  him  before  the  king.  Then  said  the  king  to  comfort 
the  vezir's  heart,  '  I  put  thee  in  prison  seemingly  to  afflict  thee ; 
but  really  that  thou  mightest  know,  from  experiencing  impris- 
onment, speedily  to  intercede  for  the  men  whom  I  cast  into 
jail.'  Quoth  the  vezir,  '  Nearness  to  a  sultan  is  a  burning  fire : 
whatsoever  conduct  be  observed  toward  me  by  the  king  is 
pleasant  teaching.'  The  king  was  pleased  and  commanded 
that  they  bring  a  robe  of  honor,  and  he  put  it  on  him  and 
made  him  again  vezir. 

"  Then  when  the  vezir  was  come  to  his  mansion  his  re- 
tainers and  others  asked  him,  saying,  '  Whence  knewest  thou 
of  the  king's  being  about  to  imprison  thee  and  seize  thy  wealth, 
and  whence  knewest  thou  of  his  being  about  to  take  thee  out 
and  make  thee  vezir  ?  '  The  vezir  replied,  '  While  in  the  bath 
my  ring  fell  into  the  water  and  sank  not,  so  I  knew  that  my 
fortune  had  reached  its  perfection,  and  that  what  follows  every 
perfection  is  declension,  therefore  did  I  so  command ;  and  for 
a  whole  year,  while  I  was  in  prison,  I  longed  for  a  dish  of 
pomegranate  pips,  at  length  I  got  it,  and  mice  polluted  it  so 
that  I  could  not  eat  it,  so  I  knew  that  my  misfortune  was  com- 
plete and  that  my  former  estate  was  returned.  And  I  was 
glad.' 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
likewise  know  that  every  perfection  has  its  declension.    Until 


400  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

now  the  prince  and  the  vezirs  were  safe  and  esteemed  before 
the  king.  Now  he  knows  not  in  what  malefic  sign  our  stars 
may  be  imprisoned.  A  woman  has  rendered  us  despicable  be- 
fore the  king  and  has  bound  him  about  with  craft  and  wiles,  so 
that  these  many  learned  and  sagacious  vezirs  are  impotent 
against  her  incitements ;  even  as  it  is  clear  that  when  a  fool 
throws  a  stone  down  a  well  a  wise  man  is  powerless  to  get  it 
up  again.  O  king,  haste  not  in  this  affair ;  too  late  repentance 
profits  not ;  for  the  prince  is  like  a  young  bird  that  can  neither 
fly  nor  flee,  grant  him  a  few  days'  respite,  haply  this  difficulty 
may  be  solved ;  and  there  is  a  reason  for  his  not  speaking.  He 
is  ever  as  a  prisoner  in  thy  hand ;  afterward,  if  thou  will,  kill 
him;  if  thou  will,  free  him."  And  he  kissed  the  ground  and 
begged  for  the  prince.  When  the  king  heard  this  story  from 
the  vezir  the  fire  that  was  in  his  heart  was  increased  ten-fold 
and  the  tears  poured  from  his  eyes ;  and  he  sent  the  prince  to 
the  prison  and  mounted  for  the  chase  with  his  own  cares. 

When  the  king  returned  he  entered  the  palace,  and  the  lady 
rose  to  greet  him,  and  they  sat  down.  After  the  repast  the 
lady  asked  for  news  of  the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  too 
such  an  one  of  my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him,  and  I 
sent  him  to  the  prison."  Quoth  the  lady,  "  O  king,  I  have 
given  thee  this  much  counsel,  and  it  has  produced  no  effect 
upon  thee.  It  is  as  though  a  physician  treated  a  sick  man,  and 
the  treatment  was  without  result,  and  that  physician  was  pow- 
erless and  attempted  no  other  treatment,  but  left  off ;  for  if 
he  treated  that  sick  man  again,  he  would  kill  him.  Now,  I  too 
am  powerless  to  speak  to  thee.  I  should  say,  '  I  will  speak 
no  more  nor  waste  my  breath  in  vain ; '  still  my  heart  pities 
thee,  for  the  king's  realm  and  life  will  be  destroyed.  My  head, 
too,  will  fall;  for  that  I  am  in  the  same  peril  with  the  king 
do  I  speak.  It  is  even  as  once  when  they  cut  off  a  person's 
hand  and  he  uttered  no  sound ;  afterward  he  saw  someone 
whose  hand  had  been  cut  off,  and  he  wailed  aloud  and  wept. 
Those  who  were  present  wondered  and  asked,  saying,  '  O  man, 
when  thy  hand  was  cut  off  thou  didst  not  weep ;  why  weepest 
thou  now  ? '  That  person  answered,  '  By  God,  then,  when 
they  cut  off  my  hand,  I  saw  that  there  was  not  among  you 
one  who  had  met  the  like,  and  I  said  in  myself  that  if  I  wept 
each  of  you  would  speak  ill  of  me,  for  ye  knew  not  the  pain 


THE   THREE    PRINCES   AND   THE   CADI  401 

of  it ;  now  that  I  have  found  a  companion  in  my  phght  do 
I  weep,  for  he  knows  the  anguish  I  have  suffered.'  Now,  O 
king,  thy  head  and  my  head  are  hke  to  fall ;  if  the  king  know 
not  my  plight,  who  should  know  it?  Mayhap  my  king  has 
not  heard  the  story  of  the  three  princes  and  the  cadi."  The 
king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  lady : 

The  Three  Princes  and  the  Cadi 

"  In  the  palace  of  the  world  there  was  a  king  and  he  had 
three  sons.  One  day  this  king  laid  his  head  on  the  pillow  of 
death  and  called  those  sons  to  his  side,  and  spake  privately 
with  them.  He  said,  '  In  such  and  such  a  corner  of  the  palace 
I  have  hidden  a  vase  full  of  pearls  and  jewels  and  diverse  gems  ; 
when  I  am  dead  do  ye  wash  me  well  and  bury  me,  then  go  and 
take  that  vase  from  its  place  and  divide  its  contents.'  The 
king  lay  for  three  days,  and  on  the  fourth  day  he  drained  the 
wine  of  death  and  set  forth  for  the  abiding  home.  When 
the  princes  had  buried  their  father  according  to  his  injunc- 
tions, they  came  together  and  went  and  beheld  that  in  the 
place  of  those  jewels  the  winds  blew.  Now  the  princes  began 
to  dispute,  and  they  said,  '  Our  father  told  this  to  us  three  in 
private,  this  trick  has  been  played  by  one  of  us.'  And  the 
three  of  them  went  to  the  cadi,  and  told  their  complaint.  The 
cadi  listened  and  then  said  to  them,  '  Come,  I  will  tell  you  a 
story,  and  after  that  I  will  settle  your  dispute. 

"  '  Once,  in  a  certain  city,  a  youth  and  a  girl  loved  each  other, 
and  that  girl  was  betrothed  to  another  youth.  When  the  lover 
was  alone  with  that  girl  he  said,  "  O  my  life,  now  thou  comest 
to  me  and  I  am  happy  with  thee ;  to-morrow  when  thou  art  the 
bride  of  thy  betrothed,  how  will  be  my  plight  ?  "  The  girl 
said,  "  My  master,  do  not  grieve ;  that  night  when  I  am  bride, 
until  I  have  come  to  thee  and  seen  thee,  I  will  not  give  the 
bridegroom  his  desire."  And  they  made  a  pact  to  that  end. 
Brief,  when  the  bridal  night  arrived,  the  girl  and  the  youth 
went  apart ;  and  when  all  the  people  were  dispersed  and  the 
place  was  clear  of  others,  the  girl  told  the  bridegroom  of  the 
pact  between  her  and  the  stricken  lover,  and  besought  leave 
to  fulfil  it.  Whenever  the  bridegroom  heard  these  words  from 
the  bride  he  said,  "  Go,  fulfil  thy  plight  and  come  again  in 
26 


402  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

safety."  So  the  bride  went  forth,  but  while  on  the  road  she 
met  a  robber.  The  robber  looked  at  her  attentively,  and  saw 
that  she  was  a  beautiful  girl  like  the  moon  of  fourteen  nights ; 
never  in  his  life  had  he  seen  such  a  girl,  and  upon  her  was 
endless  gold,  and  she  was  covered  with  diverse  jewels  such 
as  cannot  be  described.  Thereupon  the  bridle  of  choice  slipped 
from  the  robber's  hands ;  and  as  the  hungry  wglf  springs  upon 
the  sheep,  so  did  the  robber  spring  upon  that  girl.  Straight- 
way the  girl  began  to  sigh,  and  the  robber  felt  pity  and  ques- 
tioned her. 

"  '  So  the  bride  related  to  the  robber  her  story  from  its  be- 
ginning to  its  end,  whereupon  the  robber  exclaimed,  "  That  is 
no  common  generosity!  nor  shall  I  do  any  hurt  or  evil  thing 
to  her."  Then  said  he  to  the  girl,  *'  Come,  I  will  take  thee 
to  thy  lover."  And  he  took  her  and  led  to  her  lover's  door 
and  said,  "  Now  go  in  and  be  with  thy  lover."  Then  the  girl 
knocked  at  the  door,  and  that  youth,  who  lay  sighing,  heard 
the  knocking  and  went  with  haste  and  said,  "  Who  is  that  ?  " 
The  girl  answered,  "  Open  the  door ;  lo,  I  have  kept  my  plight, 
nor  have  I  broken  it,  I  am  come  to  thee."  The  youth  opened 
the  door  and  came  to  the  girl  and  said,  "  O  my  life,  my  mistress, 
welcome,  and  fair  welcome!  how  hast  thou  done  it?  "  She  re- 
plied, "  The  folk  assembled  and  gave  me  to  the  bridegroom, 
then  all  dispersed  and  each  went  his  way.  And  I  explained 
my  case  to  the  bridegroom  and  he  gave  me  leave.  While  on 
the  road  I  met  a  robber,  and  that  robber  wished  to  stretch 
forth  his  hand  to  me,  but  I  wept  and  told  him  of  my  plight 
with  thee,  and  he  had  pity  and  brought  me  to  the  door  and 
left  me,  and  has  gone  away." 

"  '  When  the  youth  heard  these  things  from  the  girl  he  said, 
"  Since  the  bridegroom  is  thus  generous,  and  has  given  thee 
leave  to  fulfil  thy  plight  with  me,  and  sent  thee  to  me,  there 
were  no  generosity  in  me  did  I  stretch  forth  my  hand  to  thee 
and  deal  treacherously ;  from  this  day  be  thou  my  sister ;  go, 
return  to  thy  husband."  And  he  sent  her  off.  When  the  girl 
went  out  she  saw  that  robber  standing  by  the  door;  and  he 
walked  in  front  of  her,  and  conducted  her  to  the  bridegroom's 
door.  And  the  girl  went  in,  and  the  robber  departed  to  his 
own  affairs.  While  the  bridegroom  was  marvelling  the  bride 
entered,  and  the  bridegroom  leaped  up  and  took  the  bride's 


THE   THREE   PRINCES   AND   THE   CADI  403 

hands  in  his,  and  they  sat  upon  the  bed.  And  the  bride- 
groom turned  and  asked  her  news  of  the  bride ;  and  she  told 
all  her  adventures  from  their  beginning  to  their  end.'  Then 
quoth  the  cadi,  *  O  my  sons,  which  of  those  showed  manliness 
and  generosity  in  this  matter  ? '  The  eldest  youth  said,  '  The 
bridegroom,  who,  while  she  was  his  lawful  bride,  and  when 
he  had  spent  thus  much  upon  her,  gave  the  girl  leave.  What 
excellent  generosity  did  he  display ! '  The  middle  youth  said, 
'  The  generosity  was  that  lover's,  who,  while  there  was  so 
much  love  between  them,  had  patience  and  sent  her  back. 
What  excellent  generosity :  can  there  be  greater  than  this ! ' 
Then  asked  he  of  the  youngest  boy,  '  O  you,  what  say  you ! ' 
Quoth  he,  '  O  ye,  what  say  ye  ?  when  one  hunting  in  the 
night  met  thus  fair  a  beauty,  a  torment  of  the  world,  a  fresh 
rose;  above  all,  laden  with  these  many  jewels,  and  yet  cov- 
eted her  not  but  took  her  to  her  place.  What  excellent  patience, 
what  excellent  generosity ! '  When  the  cadi  heard  these  words 
of  the  youngest  boy  he  said,  '  O  prince,  the  jewels  are  with 
thee ;  for  the  lover  praised  the  lover ;  and  the  trustful,  the  trust- 
ful ;  and  the  robber,  the  robber.'  The  prince  was  unable  to 
deny  it,  and  he  took  the  jewels  from  his  breast  and  laid  them 
before  the  cadi. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst 
know  that  in  that  I  am  true  I  would  aid  my  king;  and  that 
the  vezirs,  in  that  they  are  traitors,  would  aid  the  traitor  prince. 
And  they  are  forty  men,  each  one  of  them  a  wonder  of  the 
world,  while  as  for  me,  I  am  but  one  and  a  woman,  lacking  in 
understanding:  the  rest  the  king  knows."  When  the  king 
heard  these  enticing  and  beguiling  words  of  the  lady  he  said, 
"  Grieve  not,  to-morrow  will  I  kill  him." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  sat  upon  his  throne  and  thus 
commanded  the  executioner,  "  Smite  off  the  head  of  that  traitor 
youth."  Whereupon  the  ninth  vezir  came  forward  and  said, 
"  O  king  of  the  world,  beware,  slay  not  thy  son  on  the  woman's 
word,  and  be  not  heedless  of  the  import  of  this  verse  which 
God  most  high  hath  spoken  in  his  Word :  '  And  the  stiflers 
of  wrath,  and  the  pardoners  of  men;  and  God  loveth  the  be- 
neficent : '  ^  that  is  they  are  his  peculiar  servants.  And  the 
holy  Apostle  (peace  on  him!)  hath  said,  'Whoso  bridleth  his 

5  Koran,  iii.   128. 


404 


HISTORY    OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 


anger,  he  having  power  to  avenge — God  will  call  him  on  the 
resurrection  day  over  the  heads  of  the  creatures  that  he  may 
give  him  to  choose  from  the  houris  which  he  pleaseth : '  that 
is  he  shall  surely  enter  Paradise.  Let  one  pardon  him  who 
has  wronged  him  and  forgive  his  servants  their  misdeeds,  that 
God  most  high  may  pardon  him  and  be  beneficent  to  him ; 
even  as  saith  the  Apostle  (peace  on  him!)  'The  proclaimer 
shall  proclaim  on  the  resurrection  day : — Where  are  they  whose 
reward  is  (incumbent)  upon  God;  none  shall  rise  save  him 
who  hath  forgiven.'  Mayhap  the  king  has  not  heard  the  story 
of  Hârûn-er-Reshid  *  and  the  slave  girl."  The  king  said,  "  Tell 
on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

The  Caliph  and  the  Slave  Girl 

"  Once  the  Caliph  Hârûn-er-Reshîd  sat  upon  his  throne  of 
estate ;  and  the  people  of  the  city  of  Bagdad  were  late  in  com- 
ing to  salute  him.  Therefore  was  the  caliph  exceeding  wroth, 
and  he  thus  commanded  the  chamberlains,  '  Whoso  comes  now 
do  ye  turn  off  and  cast  into  prison.'  And  they  seized  and  cast 
into  prison  all  of  the  grandees  of  the  city  who  came.  For 
three  days  the  caliph  went  not  out,  neither  spake  with  anyone ; 
but  sat  full  of  fury:  who  could  have  dared  to  address  a  word 
to  him? 

"  While  in  this  state  he  desired  to  eat,  and  he  ordered  one 
of  the  slave  girls  to  bring  food.  She  brought  it  before  him, 
but  while  laying  down  the  dish,  she  was  careless  and  spilt 
some  part  of  it  over  the  caliph.  Forthwith  the  caliph  rose 
in  wrath  and  was  about  to  hew  the  girl  in  pieces,  when  she 
said,  '  O  caliph,  God  most  high  saith  in  his  glorious  Word, 
"  And  the  stiflers  of  wrath." '  ^  Straightway  the  caliph's 
wrath  was  calmed.  Again  saith  the  slave  girl,  *  "  And  the  par- 
doners of  men."  '  ^  Quoth  the  caliph,  '  I  have  forgiven  the 
crimes  of  all  the  criminals  who  may  be  in  prison.'  Again  said 
the  slave  girl,  '  "  And  God  loveth  the  beneficent."  '  ^  Quoth 
the  caliph,  '  God  be  witness  that  I  have  with  my  own  wealth 
freed  thee  and  as  many  unfreed  male  and  female  slaves  as  I 
have,  and  that  this  day  I  have  for  the  love  of  God  given  the 
half  of  all  my  wealth  to  the  poor  in  alms.'     After  that  he  let 

••  The    celebrated    Calipli    of    Bagdad,        in    the    "  Thousand    and    One    Nights." 
and    hero    of    so    many    of    the    stories  ^  Koran,  iii.  128. 


THE    FüÜLISH    PRINCES 


405 


bring  into  his  presence  all  the  prisoners  who  were  in  the  jail 
and  begged  absolution  of  them ;  and  as  he  had  attained  to 
the  import  of  that  noble  verse,  he  put  on  each  of  them  a  robe 
of  honor,  and  devoted  himself  to  justice  and  equity.  And 
now  whoso  mentions  him  doth  add,  '  The  mercy  of  God  on 
him ! ' « 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  I  have  seen  this  day 
that  thy  wrath  was  great.  I  would  that  thou  pardon  the 
prince  and  grant  him  his  life  and  so  do  a  meritorious  deed ; 
and  in  this  matter,  beyond  doubt  and  beyond  uncertainty,  thou 
shalt  become  deserving  of  the  mercy  and  paradise  of  God  most 
high."  And  he  kissed  the  ground  and  begged  for  the  prince. 
When  the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  vezir  he  sent  the 
youth  to  the  prison  and  mounted  for  the  chase. 

That  day  he  found  no  game  and  returned  in  wrath  to  the 
palace.  Again  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him  and  they  sat  down. 
After  the  repast  the  lady  began  to  speak  of  the  youth.  The 
king  said,  "  Look,  my  mistress,  now  all  is  over,  and  my  prince 
is  still  upon  thy  tongue ;  to-day  too  one  of  my  vezirs  begged 
for  him  and  I  sent  him  to  the  prison."  The  lady  saw  that  the 
king  was  vexed  and  said,  "  My  king,  be  kind,  be  not  vexed  with 
me ;  for  I  know  that  soon  no  good  will  befall  thee  from  that 
youth,  for  he  is  very  covetous  of  wealth  and  kingship,  and 
the  covetous  is  ever  balked.  I  saw  him  without  understanding 
and  without  discretion ;  he  knows  neither  his  words  nor  him- 
self ;  he  is  even  as  the  sons  of  that  king  who  took  the  meta- 
phorical words  of  their  father  as  literal,  and  at  length  lost 
what  wealth  was  in  their  hands.  Mayhap  my  king  has  not 
heard  that  story."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear," 
Quoth  the  lady : 

The  Foolish  Princes 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  great  king,  and 
he  had  three  sons.  One  day  that  king  laid  his  head  upon  the 
pillow  of  death  and  called  his  sons  before  him  and  said,  *  O 
my  sons,  my  life  has  reached  its  end ;  I  have  counsel  to  give 
you,  which  when  I  am  dead  do  ye  observe.'  His  sons  replied, 
*  On  our  heads  be  it ;  speak,  father.'    To  his  eldest  son  he  said, 

«  D'Herbelnt  relates  the  same  story  in        stitutes  Hasan  son  of  'AH,  the  Prophet's 
his  "  Bibliotheque  Orientale,"  but  sub-        son-in-law,   for   Harun-er-Reshid. 


4o6  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY  VEZIRS 

*  Build  thou  a  house  in  every  city.'  And  to  his  middle  son, 
'  Marry  thou  every  night.'  And  to  his  youngest  son,  '  When- 
ever thou  eatest,  eat  honey  and  butter.'  The  king  lived  not 
long  after  giving  these  injunctions,  but  died.  The  eldest  son 
fell  to  building  a  house  in  every  city ;  the  middle  son  married 
a  w^ife  every  night,  and  on  the  morrow  gave  her  her  dower  and 
sent  her  to  her  father's  house ;  and  the  youngest  son,  whenever 
he  ate,  mixed  honey  and  butter  and  ate  it.  A  long  time  passed 
on  this  wise;  we  may  say  that  though  the  middle  and  the 
youngest  sons  spent  money,  they  at  least  had  pleasure  for  it; 
but  that  bewildered  and  senseless  eldest  son  spent  this  much 
money,  and  if  the  buildings  he  raised  were  fit  for  habitation, 
still  they  pointed  to  folly. 

"  One  day  a  wise  man  asked  them,  '  Why  do  ye  thus  ?  '  The 
princes  answered,  *  By  God,  our  father  thus  enjoined  us.'  The 
wise  man  said,  '  Your  father's  injunctions  were  not  thus,  but 
ye  have  not  understood  his  riddles.  And  there  is  a  tale  suitable 
to  this  your  plight,  I  will  tell  it  you ;  afterward  I  will  teach  you 
your  father's  riddles.'  The  princes  said,  '  Pray  do  so/  Quoth 
the  wise  man,  '  Once  there  was  a  king  who  always  exacted 
tribute  from  the  infidels.  One  day  those  infidels  assembled 
their  monks  and  said,  "  Let  us  find  some  trick  which  the  king 
will  be  unable  to  understand,  that  thereby  we  may  escape  from 
this  tribute :  now  do  ye  each  think  of  some  plan."  Thereupon 
they  dispersed  and  went  away.  After  a  time  a  monk  came  to 
the  infidel  who  was  their  chief  and  said,  "  I  shall  go  to  them 
and  put  to  them  a  question,  and  if  they  can  answer  it  we  will 
give  them  tribute." 

"  '  So  the  unbelieving  king  gave  that  monk  a  little  money  and 
sent  him.  One  day  he  entered  the  realms  of  Islam,  and  the 
event  was  reported  to  the  king,  who  said,  "  Our  learned  men 
of  the  faith  will  surely  answer  an  infidel  without  the  faith; 
let  him  come."  They  brought  him  into  the  presence  of  the 
king;  and  the  king  straightway  assembled  his  doctors  and 
pious  men  and  grandees.  Then  the  king  said,  "  O  monk,  now 
what  is  thy  question ;  speak,  let  us  see  ?  "  The  monk  first 
opened  the  five  fingers  of  his  hand  and  held  the  palm  opposite 
the  folk,  then  he  let  the  five  fingers  droop  downward,  and  said, 
"  What  means  that  ?  know  ye  ?  "  And  all  the  doctors  were 
silent  and  began  to  ponder,  and  they  reflected,  saying,  "  What 


THE   FOOLISH   PRINCES  407 

riddles  can  these  riddles  be?  There  is  no  such  thing  in  the 
Commentaries  or  the  Traditions." 

"  '  Now  there  was  there  a  learned  wanderer,  and  forthwith 
he  came  forward  and  asked  leave  of  the  king  that  he  might 
answer.  The  king  gladly  gave  leave;  then  that  wanderer 
came  forward  and  said  to  the  monk,  "  What  is  thy  question  ? 
what  need  for  the  doctors?  poor  I  can  answer."  Then  the 
monk  came  forward  and  opened  his  hand  and  held  it  so  be- 
fore the  dervish;  straightway  the  dervish  closed  his  fist  and 
held  it  opposite  the  monk.  Then  the  monk  let  his  five  fingers 
droop  downward ;  the  dervish  opened  his  fist  and  held  his  five 
fingers  upward. 

"  '  When  the  monk  saw  these  signs  of  the  dervish,  he  said, 
"  That  is  the  answer,"  and  gave  up  the  money  he  had  brought. 
But  the  king  knew  not  what  these  riddles  meant,  and  he  took 
the  dervish  apart  and  asked  him.  The  dervish  replied,  "  When 
he  opened  his  fingers  and  held  his  hand  so  to  me,  it  meant '  now  I 
strike  thee  so  on  the  face ;'  so  I  showed  him  my  fist,  which  meant, 
*  I  strike  thy  throat  with  my  fist ; '  he  turned  and  let  his  fin- 
gers droop  downward,  which  meant,  '  thou  dost  so,  then  I  strike 
lower  and  seize  thy  throat  with  my  hand ; '  and  my  raising  my 
fingers  upward  meant,  '  if  thou  seekest  to  seize  my  throat,  I 
too  shall  grasp  thy  throat  from  underneath ; '  so  we  fought 
with  one  another  by  signs."  Then  the  king  called  the  monk 
and  said,  "  Thou  madest  signs  with  the  dervish,  but  what  meant 
those  signs  ?  "  The  monk  replied,  "  I  held  my  five  fingers 
opposite  him,  that  meant,  '  the  five  times  ye  do  worship,  is  it 
right  ? '  The  dervish  presented  his  fist,  which  meant,  '  it  is 
right.'  Then  I  held  my  fingers  downward,  which  meant,  '  why 
does  the  rain  come  down  from  heaven  ? '  The  dervish  held 
his  fingers  upward,  which  meant,  '  the  rain  falls  down  from 
heaven  that  the  grass  may  spring  up  from  the  earth.'  Now 
such  are  the  answers  to  those  questions  in  our  books."  Then 
he  returned  to  his  country. 

"  *  And  the  king  knew  that  the  dervish  had  not  understood  the 
monk's  riddles ;  but  the  king  was  well  pleased  for  that  he  had 
done  what  was  suitable ;  and  he  bestowed  on  the  dervish  a  por- 
tion of  the  money  which  the  monk  had  left.  O  princes,  ye  have 
not  understood  your  father's  riddles  and  ye  have  wasted  your 
wealth  in  vain.'    The  princes  said,  '  What  meant  our  father's 


4o8  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

riddles  ?  '  He  replied,  '  Firstly,  when  he  said,  "  Build  thou  a 
house  in  every  city,"  he  meant,  "  gain  thou  a  friend  in  every 
city,  so  that  when  thou  goest  to  a  city  the  house  of  the  friend 
thou  hast  gained  may  be  thine."  Secondly,  when  he  said, 
"  Embrace  thou  a  virgin  whenever  thou  embracest,"  he  meant, 
"  be  moderate  in  thy  pleasures  that  thou  mayst  enjoy  them 
the  more."  Thirdly,  when  he  said,  "  Whenever  thou  eatest, 
eat  honey  and  butter,"  he  meant,  "  never  when  thou  eatest,  eat 
to  repletion ;  but  eat  so  that  if  it  be  but  dry  bread  thou  eatest, 
it  will  be  to  thee  as  honey  and  butter."  '  When  the  princes 
heard  the  words  of  the  wise  dervish  they  knew  that  their 
father's  signs  to  them  were  so,  and  not  that  which  they  had 
done ;  and  they  left  ofî  doing  those  things. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  with  youths 
is  no  discretion,  but  in  them  ignorance  and  heedlessness  abound. 
Though  thou  through  understanding  have  compassion  on  him, 
yet  will  he  have  none  on  thee;  it  will  be  even  as  when  one 
day  Saint  Bayezid  of  Bestam  ^  saw  a  mangy  dog,  and  through 
pity  took  it  and  laid  it  in  a  place  and  tended  it  many  days  till 
it  became  well,  whereon  it  bit  his  foot.  Bayezid  said,  '  O  dog, 
this  is  the  return  for  the  kindness  I  did  thee — that  thou  bitest 
me.'  God  most  high  gave  speech  to  that  dog,  and  it  said,  '  O 
Bayezid,  is  not  the  proverb  well  known,  "  A  man  acts  as  a  man  ; 
a  dog,  as  a  dog  "  ?  '  Methinks,  O  king,  that  in  that  youth  must 
be  an  evil  vein :  for  if  kindness  be  to  kindness,  never  so  long  as  he 
lived  could  that  unworthy  one  have  cast  on  me  an  envious 
glance  ;  above  all,  never  could  he  have  sought  to  slay  my  king,  his 
father,  the  source  of  his  being.  I,  where  am  I  ?  Take  warning." 
And  she  incited  the  king  with  very  many  evil  words,  so  that  he 
was  afraid  and  said,  "  Grieve  not,  to-morrow  will  I  slay  him." 
And  that  night  was  grievous  to  the  king. 

Scarce  was  it  morning  and  had  the  sun  shown  forth  the  rid- 
dle of  the  whiteness  of  dawn,  like  as  that  dervish  showed  to 
the  king's  sons  the  riddles  of  their  father,  and  illumined  the 
world  with  light,  ere  the  king  sat  upon  his  throne  and  caused 
the  youth  to  be  brought  and  ordered  the  executioner,  "  Smite 
ofî  his  head."  Then  the  tenth  vezir  came  forward  and  said, 
"  O  king  of  the  world,  every  king  desires  that  whithersoever 

^  Bayezid    of    Bestam    was    a    famous  saint  who,  according  to  Ibn-Khallikan, 
died  in  261  or  264  (a.d.  875  or  878). 


STORY   OF   THE   EGYPTIAN    PRINCE  409 

he  go  he  may  triumph  and  conquer ;  and  that  the  earth  be  sub- 
ject to  his  hand;  and  that  whoso  comes  to  his  gate  hoping, 
may  find  that  which  he  seeks ;  and  that  the  heart  of  none  be 
vexed.  When  in  the  country  of  a  king  despairing  hearts  are 
many,  that  host  of  despairing  hearts  gathers  together  and 
utterly  destroys  another  gay  host.  Thus  it  becomes  the  great- 
ness and  glory  of  kings,  that  when  they  see  a  beast  under  a 
heavy  load  they  have  compassion  on  that  beast;  even  as  it 
w^as  when  an  ass  came,  dragging  itself  along,  to  the  chain  of  the 
justice  of  Nûshirvân  the  Just.* 

"  Straightway  the  king  caused  it  to  be  brought  into  his  pres- 
ence, and  he  saw  it  to  be  a  lean  and  worn  black  ass,  whose 
back  was  broken  with  bearing  loads.  When  the  king  saw  that 
animal  in  such  plight  his  heart  bled,  and  he  laid  his  hand  on 
the  beast's  face  and  wept  full  bitterly  and  said,  "  See  ye  how 
this  poor  creature  has  been  oppressed  in  my  kingdom  ?  '  And 
he  called  for  a  physician  and  said  to  him,  '  Go,  tend  the 
wounds  of  this  beast,  and  give  it  abundance  to  eat,  and  wrap 
round  it  a  good  horse-cloth  that  it  be  at  ease.'  Now,  it  is  in- 
cumbent on  kings  that  they  have  compassion  on  the  unhappy 
and  the  weak,  and  pity  them,  and  believe  not  plotters  and  liars, 
nor  trust  their  evil  wicked  words;  and  such  folk  are  very 
many.  Mayhap  my  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  the  king's 
son  of  Egypt  and  the  crafty  woman."  The  king  said,  "  Relate 
it,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

Story  of  the  Egyptian  Prince 

"  In  the  city  of  Cairo  there  was  a  king  and  he  had  two  sons. 
One  day  he  reflected  on  the  doings  of  the  cruel  sphere  and 
saw  how  the  world  was  without  constancy  and  remained  not 
to  king  iior  yet  to  beggar,  but  trod  all  under  foot.  At  length 
he  bethought  him  how  it  would  not  endure  for  himself  either ; 
and  he  took  his  younger  son  and  made  him  apprentice  to  a 
master  tailor,  and  said,  '  After  all,  a  trade  is  needful  for  a  man ; 
and  they  have  said  that  the  least  knowledge  of  a  trade  is  bet- 
ter than  a  hundred  thousand  sequins.'  So  in  a  short  while  the 
prince  became  a  tailor  such  that  there  was  not  in  the  city  of 
Cairo  one  who  could  ply  his  scissors  and  needle.     One  day 

8  One   of   the   most  famous   kings   of  pre-Islamitic    Persia,    he    reigned    from 
A.D.  531  to  579. 


4IO  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

the  king  passed  to  the  abiding  home,  and  his  elder  son  became 
king.  His  brother  the  tailor,  fearing  for  his  head,  fled  and 
went  to  the  Ka'ba.** 

"  While  making  the  circumambulation,^"  his  foot  struck 
against  something  hard,  he  looked  and  saw  a  girdle  and  took 
it  up  and  bound  it  round  his  loins,  and  continued  the  circum- 
ambulation.  After  a  while  he  saw  a  khoja  who  had  a  stone 
in  either  hand  and  who  was  beating  his  breast  with  these 
stones  and  crying,  '  Ah  woe !  alas !  I  had  hidden  in  that  girdle 
all  the  wealth  I  have  gained  from  my  youth ;  whatever  Mos- 
lem has  found  it,  let  him  give  it  me  for  the  love  of  God  and 
the  honor  of  the  Ka'ba,  and  the  half  of  it  shall  be  lawful  for 
him  as  his  mother's  milk.' 

"  When  the  prince  saw  and  heard  him  he  knew  that  that  girdle 
was  his,  and  he  said  in  his  heart,  '  What  has  this  much  wealth 
and  the  kingdom  of  my  father  done  for  me?  and  what  should 
this  do  for  me  ?  I  shall  not  let  this  poor  man  weep ;  I  shall 
give  it  him.'  And  he  went  round  and  came  before  the  khoja  and 
said, '  O  khoja,  I  have  found  that  girdle  of  thine ;  lo,  it  is  round 
my  loins.'  The  khoja  clung  fast  to  the  prince,  and  the  prince 
said, '  What  reward  wilt  thou  give  me  ?  lo,  the  girdle  is  round  my 
loins.'  Then  the  khoja  took  the  prince  and  brought  him  to  his 
own  tent ;  and  the  prince  loosed  the  girdle  from  his  loins  and 
laid  it  before  the  khoja,  and  the  khoja  took  it  and  clasped  it  to 
his  heart.  Then  he  brake  the  seal  and  poured  out  what  was  in 
it ;  and  the  prince  saw  it  to  be  full  of  precious  stones. 

"  The  khoja  divided  these  stones  into  three  heaps  and  said, 
'  O  youth,  wilt  thou  take  one  heap  with  my  good-will,  or  two 
without  it  ?  '  The  prince  replied,  '  Give  me  one  heap  with  thy 
good-will.'  Then  the  khoja  divided  one  of  those  heaps  into 
two  and  said,  '  Which  of  them  wilt  thou  take  with  my  good- 
will ? '  Again  the  prince  made  choice  of  a  heap.  At  length 
the  khoja  said,  '  Youth,  wouldest  thou  have  these  remaining 
jewels,  or  wouldest  thou  that  we  go  and  that  I  pray  for  thee 
under  the  Golden  Spout? '^  The  prince  answered.  'Wealth 
perishes,  but  prayers  endure ;  do  thou  bless  me,  I  have  relin- 
quished all  these  riches.'    And  they  went,  and  he  held  up  his 

» The   Cubical    (House),   i.  e.,   the  Sa-  i  For    a    description    of    it    see    Cap- 
ered  Temple   at   Mecca.  tain  Burton's  "  Pilgrimage,"  vol.  iii,  p. 

"•  One    of   the    ceremonies    performed  164. 
by  the  pilgrims  at  Mecca. 


STORY   OF   THE   EGYPTIAN   PRINCE  411 

hands  and  said  to  the  prince,  '  Say  thou,  "  Amen."  '  So  the 
youth  raised  up  his  hands  and  the  khoja  began  to  pray.  He 
repeated  many  prayers  in  himself,  and  the  prince  said,  '  Amen.' 
The  khoja  drew  his  hands  down  his  face  and  said,  '  O  youth,  I 
have  prayed  much  for  thee ;  now  go,  and  may  thy  end  be 
good.' 

"  I'he  prince  went  away ;  but  after  a  httle  he  thought  in 
himself,  *  If  I  go  now  to  Cairo  my  brother  will  kill  me,  let 
me  go  along  with  this  khoja  to  Bagdad.'  So  he  went  back  to 
the  khoja  and  said,  '  O  khoja,  I  would  go  with  thee  to  Bag- 
dad; take  me  that  I  may  serve  thee  on  the  road.'  So  the 
khoja  took  him;  and  the  prince  was  in  the  khoja's  service, 
and  they  entered  Bagdad  and  lighted  at  the  khoja's  dwelling. 
For  some  days  the  prince  abode  there,  then  he  said  to  the 
khoja,  '  I  may  not  stay  here  thus  idling ;  I  have  a  trade,  I  am 
a  master  tailor,  if  thou  hast  any  tailor  friend,  pray  take  me  to 
him  that  he  may  give  me  some  work  to  do.' 

"  Now  the  khoja  had  a  tailor  friend,  and  he  straightway 
took  the  prince  and  brought  him  to  the  shop  of  that  tailor  and 
commended  him  to  him,  and  the  tailor  consented.  Then  the 
prince  sat  down  and  his  master  cut  out  cloth  for  a  robe  and 
gave  it  him ;  now  the  prince  had  checkmated  the  Cairo  tailors, 
where  then  were  those  of  Bagdad?  The  prince  sewed  that 
robe  and  returned  it,  and  the  master  took  it  and  looked  at  it 
and  saw  that  it  was  a  beautiful  robe,  made  so  that  in  all  his  life 
he  had  not  seen  the  like  of  it,  and  he  said,  '  A  thousand  times 
well-done,  youth.'  This  news  spread  among  the  masters,  and 
they  all  came  to  that  shop  and  saw  it  and  admired ;  and  this 
prince  became  very  famous  in  that  country.  The  work  in  that 
master's  shop  was  now  increased  tenfold,  and  customers  in  like 
measure.  One  day  that  khoja  had  a  quarrel  with  his  wife, 
and  in  the  greatness  of  his  heat  the  words  of  the  triple  divorce 
passed  his  lips. 

"  Then  he  repented  and  would  have  got  back  his  wife,  and 
his  wife  also  was  willing.  They  sought  a  legal  decision,  but 
the  mufti  said,  '  It  may  not  be  without  an  intermediary.'  -  The 
khoja  bethought  him  whom  he  could  get  for  intermediary  when 
the  prince  came  into  his  mind,  and  he  said  in  himself,  '  That 
stranger  youth  is  he ;  I  shall  make  him  intermediary.'     So  he 

*  Such  as  is  required  by  the  Mahometan  law  in  case  of  a  triple  divorce. 


412  HISTORY   OF   THE   P^ORTY   VEZIRS 

married  the  woman  to  the  prince.  When  it  was  evening  he 
took  him  and  put  him  into  a  dark  house  with  the  lady ;  but  the 
lady  made  shift  to  hght  a  candle,  and  as  soon  as  she  saw  the 
prince  she  fell  in  love  with  him  with  all  her  heart.  And  the 
prince  as  soon  as  he  saw  her  fell  in  love  with  her  with  all  his 
heart.  Then  these  two  moons  came  together,  and,  after  making 
merry,  the  lady  showed  the  prince  sumptuous  stufifs,  and  count- 
less gold,  and  precious  stones,  such  as  the  tale  and  number  of 
them  cannot  be  written,  and  she  said, '  O  my  life,  all  this  wealth 
is  mine,  it  is  my  inheritance  from  my  mother  and  my  father,  and 
all  the  wealth  too  that  that  khoja  has  is  mine;  if  thou  will  not 
dismiss  me  to-morrow,  but  accept  me  as  thy  legal  wife,  all  this 
wealth  is  thine.' 

"  The  prince  consented  to  this  proposal,  and  the  woman  said, 
'  O  youth,  when  the  khoja  comes  to-morrow  he  will  say, 
"  Come,  let  us  go  to  the  cadi ;  "  say  thou,  "  Why  should  we  go 
to  the  cadi  ?  "  If  he  say,  "  Divorce  the  woman,"  do  thou  reply, 
"  By  God,  it  were  shame  in  us  to  take  a  wife  and  then  divorce 
her."  And  he  will  be  unable  to  find  any  answer  thereto.'  The 
prince  was  glad  and  accepted  the  lady's  advice.  When  it  was 
morning  the  khoja  came  and  knocked  at  the  door,  and  the 
prince  went  forth  and  kissed  the  khoja's  hand.  The  khoja  said, 
'  Come,  let  us  go  to  the  cadi ; '  the  prince  answered,  '  Why 
should  we  go  to  the  cadi?'  Quoth  the  khoja,  'Divorce  the 
woman.'  The  prince  replied,  *  By  God,  it  were  mighty  shame 
in  us  to  divorce  the  woman ;  I  will  not  divorce  her.'  The 
khoja  exclaimed,  'Ah  youth,  what  word  is  that?  I  trusted 
thee,  thinking  thee  an  upright  youth,  why  speakest  thou 
thus?' 

"  The  prince  answered,  '  Is  not  this  which  I  have  said  the 
commandment  of  God  and  the  word  of  the  Apostle  ? '  The 
khoja  looked  and  saw  that  there  was  no  help ;  he  wished  to  go 
to  the  cadi,  but  the  folk  said  to  him,  '  Khoja,  now  that  woman 
is  his,  she  is  pleased  with  him  and  he  is  pleased  with  her,  they 
cannot  be  divorced  by  force.'  The  khoja  was  filled  with  grief 
and  said,  '  He  shall  not  be  questioned  concerning  what  he 
doth ; '  ^  and  he  ceased  from  trying. 

"  He  fell  ill  from  his  rage  and  became  bedridden ;  then  he 
called  the  prince  and  said  to  him,  '  Hast  thou  any  knowledge 

2  Koran,   xxi.   23. 


STORY   OF   THE   EGYPTIAN    PRINCE  413 

of  what  I  prayed  for  thee  under  the  Golden  Spout  ? '  The 
prince  repHed,  '  I  know  naught  of  it.'  The  khoja  said,  '  Al- 
though I  would  have  prayed  otherwise,  this  came  upon  my 
tongue :  "  My  God,  apportion  to  this  youth  my  wealth,  my 
sustenance,  and  my  wife."  O  youth,  would  I  had  not  taken 
from  thee  yon  girdle !  O  youth,  my  wife  was  my  existence, 
now  that  too  is  become  thine.  Now  let  these  sitting  here  be 
witnesses  that  when  I  am  dead  all  that  I  possess  belongs  to 
thee.'  Three  days  afterward  he  died ;  he  perished  through 
grief  for  that  scheming  woman;  and  the  prince  became  pos- 
sessor of  his  wealth. 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst  know 
that  fidelity  comes  not  from  women,  and  that  their  love  is  not 
to  be  trusted.  When  they  cannot  help  it,  they  are  obedient  to 
their  husbands,  and,  fearing  the  rod  of  the  law,  they  wrap 
their  feet  in  their  skirts  and  sit  quiet,  otherwise  they  would 
ruin  the  world  with  craft  and  trickery.  Now,  O  king,  act  not  on 
the  woman's  word."  From  seven  places  he  performed  the 
salutation  due  to  kings,  and  begged  for  the  prince's  life.  The 
king  heard  this  story  from  the  vezir,  and  that  day,  too,  he  sent 
his  son  to  the  prison,  and  went  himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening,  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
sat  down.  After  the  repast,  the  lady  brought  about  an  oppor- 
tunity, and  began  upon  the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day 
such  an  one  of  my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him,  and  I  have 
sent  him  to  the  prison."  Quoth  the  lady,  "  These  vezirs  are 
all  of  them  traitors  to  thee,  and  they  are  schemers  and  plot- 
ters. Each  of  them  says  words  concerning  me  which  if  he 
heard,  no  true  man  would  bear ;  a  man's  wife  is  equal  with 
his  life.  All  the  people  marvel  at  thee,  and  say  thou  hast  no 
sense  of  honor.  But  these  vezirs  have  bewitched  thee.  Thy 
lies,  too,  are  many ;  every  night  thou  sayest,  '  I  will  kill  this 
youth ; '  then  thou  killest  him  not,  and  falsifiest  thy  words. 
O  king,  through  truth  is  one  acceptable  both  to  God  and  man. 
O  king,  no  good  will  come  from  a  youth  like  this ;  it  were 
better  such  a  son  did  not  remain  after  thee  than  that  he  did 
remain.  Mayhap  my  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  a  certain 
merchant."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."  Quoth  the 
lady: 


414 


HISTORY   OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 


The  Merchant's  Bequest 

"  There  was  of  old  time  a  great  merchant,  and  he  had  two 
sons.  One  day  the  merchant  laid  his  head  on  the  pillow  of 
death,  and  he  called  his  sons  before  him,  and  brought  together 
some  wise  persons,  and  said,  '  Moslems,  if  it  please  God  most 
high,  these  boys  will  live  for  many  years ;  reckon  at  the  rate 
of  a  hundred  years  from  to-day,  and  allow  to  each  of  them  a 
daily  grant  of  a  thousand  aspres,  and  whatever  the  sum  may 
amount  to,  that  sum  will  I  give  them,  that  after  nie  they  may 
stand  in  need  of  no  one  till  they  die,  but  pass  their  lives  in 
ease  in  this  transient  world.'  Then  they  reckoned  up,  and 
he  gave  them  much  money ;  and  a  few  days  afterward  he 
passed  to  the  abiding  home. 

"  The  sons  buried  their  father,  and  then  began  to  waste  that 
money.  Their  father's  friends  gave  them  much  advice,  but  they 
would  not  accept  it.  One  of  them  would  enter  the  shop  of  a  con- 
fectioner and  buy  up  all  the  sweetmeats  that  were  therein,  and 
load  porters  with  them,  and  take  them  to  the  square  of  the  city, 
and  cry  out,  '  This  is  spoil ! '  and  the  folk  would  scramble  for 
them,  and  he  would  laugh.  And  his  business  was  ever  thus. 
The  other  youth  would  buy  wine  and  meat,  and  enter  a  ship  with 
some  flattering  bufifoons,  and  eat  and  drink  and  make  merry ; 
and  when  he  was  drunk  he  would  mix  up  gold  and  silver  coins 
before  him,  and  throw  them  by  handfuls  into  the  sea,  and  their 
flashing  into  the  water  pleased  him,  and  he  would  laugh.  And 
his  business  likewise  was  ever  thus.  By  reason  of  these  follies, 
the  wealth  of  both  of  them  came  to  an  end  in  little  time,  in  such 
wise  that  they  were  penniless,  so  that  they  sat  by  the  way  and 
begged. 

"  At  length  the  merchants,  their  father's  friends,  came  to- 
gether, and  went  to  the  king  and  said,  '  The  sons  of  such  and 
such  a  merchant  are  fallen  a  prey  to  a  plight  like  this ;  if  they 
be  not  disgraced  now,  to-morrow  will  our  sons  also  act  like 
them.  Do  thou  now  put  them  to  death,  for  the  love  of  God, 
that  they  may  be  an  example,  and  that  others  may  not  act  as 
they.'  Then  the  king  commanded  that  they  bring  them  both 
into  his  presence,  and  the  king  said  to  them,  '  O  unhappy  ones, 
what  plight  is  this  plight  in  which  ye  are  ?  Where  is  the  heads- 
man ?  '    And  he  ordered  them  to  be  killed.    They  said,  '  O  king. 


i 


THE    KING   AND   THE   VEZIR'S   SON  415 

be  not  wroth  at  our  having  fallen  into  this  plight,  and  kill 
us  not ;  our  father  is  the  cause  of  our  being  thus,  for  he  com- 
mended us  not  to  God  most  high,  but  commended  us  to 
money ;  and  the  end  of  the  child  who  is  commended  to  money 
is  thus.'  Their  words  seemed  good  to  the  king,  and  he  said, 
*  By  God,  had  ye  not  answered  thus,  I  had  cleft  ye  in  twain.' 
And  then  he  bestowed  on  each  of  them  a  village. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  related  this  story  for  that  among 
youths  there  is  nor  shame  nor  honor,  neither  is  there  zeal  for 
friend  or  foe.  Beware  and  beware,  be  not  negligent,  ere  the 
youth  kill  thee  do  thou  kill  him,  else  thou  shalt  perish."  When 
the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  lady  he  said,  "  On  the  mor- 
row will  I  kill  him." 

When  it  was  morning,  and  the  darkness  of  night,  like  the 
wealth  of  that  merchant,  was  scattered,  the  king  sat  upon  his 
throne  and  commanded  the  executioner,  saying,  "  Smite  off  the 
youth's  head."  Then  the  eleventh  vezir  came  forward  and 
said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  hurry  not  in  this  affair,  and  what- 
soever thou  doest,  do  according  to  the  command  of  God  and 
the  word  of  the  Apostle ;  and  the  holy  Apostle  hath  said  that 
when  the  resurrection  is  near,  knowledge  will  vanish  and  igno- 
rance will  increase  and  the  spilling  of  blood  will  be  oft.  O 
king,  leave  not  the  Law,  and  spill  not  blood  unjustly  on  thine 
own  account,  and  pity  the  innocent ;  for  they  have  said  that 
whoso  taketh  a  fallen  one  by  the  hand  to  raise  him  shall 
be  happy ;  but  whoso,  having  the  power,  raiseth  him  not  shall 
himself  burn  in  the  fire  of  regret.  Mayhap  the  king  has  not 
heard  the  story  of  a  certain  king  and  a  vezir's  son."  The  king 
said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

•".      The  King  and  the  Vezir''s  Son 

"  Of  old  time  there  was  a  king,  and  that  king  had  a  sage 
vezir.  God  most  high  had  given  that  vezir  a  son ;  and  the 
people  of  the  world  were  bewildered  at  the  beauty  of  that  boy. 
And  the  king  loved  him  so  that  he  could  not  endure  to  be  a 
moment  without  seeing  him,  and  he  never  parted  from  him. 
So  his  parents  yearned  for  the  boy,  but  what  avail?  they  had 
needs  have  patience  through  fear  of  the  king.  One  day,  the 
king  while  drunk  entered  the  palace  and  saw  this  boy  playing 


4i6  HISTORY    OF   THE    FORTY    VEZIRS 

with  another  page,  and  thereupon  was  he  wroth  and  he  com- 
manded the  executioner,  '  Smite  ofif  the  head  of  this  degenerate 
boy.'  And  they  dragged  the  boy  out.  Thereupon  word  was 
sent  to  the  vezir,  and  he  came  straightway,  and  crying,  '  My 
Hfe !  my  son !  '  went  up  to  the  headsman  and  said,  '  O  heads- 
man, now  is  the  king  drunk  and  senseless  and  he  knows  not  the 
words  he  says ;  if  thou  kill  the  boy  to-night,  to-morrow  the 
king  will  not  spare  thee;  but  will  kill  thee  likewise.'  The 
headsman  said,  '  How  should  we  do  ?  he  said  to  me,  "  Quick, 
smite  off  his  head  and  bring  it." ' 

"  The  vezir  answered,  '  Go  to  the  prison  and  smite  off  the 
head  of  some  man  meriting  death,  and  bring  it ;  at  this  time 
the  king  has  not  his  senses  and  will  believe  it.'  And  he  gave 
the  headsman  much  gold.  The  headsman  took  the  sequins  and 
was  glad,  and  went  forthwith  to  the  prison  and  smote  off  the 
head  of  a  robber  and  brought  it  to  the  king.  The  king  was 
pleased  and  gave  the  headsman  a  robe  of  honor.  And  the  vezir 
took  the  boy  and  brought  him  to  his  own  house  and  hid  him 
there.  When  it  was  morning  and  the  king's  senses  returned, 
he  asked  for  the  boy,  and  they  said,  '  This  night  thou  didst 
command  the  executioner  that  he  smote  off  the  boy's  head.' 
As  soon  as  the  king  heard  this  he  fell  senseless  and  his  under- 
standing forsook  him.  After  a  while  his  understanding  re- 
turned and  he  sat  beating  his  knees  and  he  fell  a-weeping. 
Then  the  vezir,  feigning  not  to  know,  came  before  the  king  and 
said,  '  O  king,  what  plight  is  this  ?  '  Quoth  the  king,  '  O  vezir, 
where  is  that  source  of  my  life?  where  is  that  spring  of  my 
soul  ?  '  The  vezir  said,  '  O  king,  whom  meanest  thou  ? '  The 
king  replied,  '  Thy  son,  who  was  the  joy  of  my  heart.'  And  he 
cried  and  wept  beyond  control,  and  the  vezir  rent  his  collar 
and  wailed  and  lamented. 

"  For  two  months  the  one  business  of  the  king  was  sighing 
and  crying;  during  the  nights  he  would  not  sleep  till  dawn 
for  weeping,  and  he  would  say,  '  My  God,  shall  I  never  behold 
his  face?  mayhap  I  shall  behold  it  at  the  resurrection.  To  me 
henceforth  life  is  not  beseeming.'  Mad  words  like  these  would 
he  utter.  And  he  ceased  from  eating  and  drinking,  and  re- 
tired from  the  throne  and  sought  a  private  house  and  wept 
ever,  and  it  wanted  little  but  he  died.  When  the  vezir  saw 
this,  he  one  day  decked  out  the  boy  like  a  flower  and  took 


THE    KING   AND   THE    VEZIR'S   SON  417 

him  and  went  to  the  private  place  where  the  king  dwelt.  He 
left  the  boy  at  the  door  and  went  in  himself  and  saw  that  the 
king  had  bowed  his  head  in  adoration  and  was  praying  to  God 
and  weeping  and  thus  saying,  '  My  God,  henceforth  is  life  un- 
lawful for  me,  do  thou  in  thy  mercy  take  my  soul ; '  and  he 
was  lamenting,  recalling  the  darling  fashions  of  the  boy. 

"  The  vezir  heard  this  wail  of  the  king  and  said,  '  O  king, 
how  thou  weepest !  thou  hast  forsaken  manhood,  and  art  be- 
come a  by-word  in  the  world.'  The  king  replied,  '  Hence- 
forth advice  profits  me  not ;  lo,  begone.'  Quoth  the  vezir,  *  O 
king,  if  God  most  high  took  pity  on  thee  and  brought  the  boy 
to  life,  wouldst  thou  forgive  his  fault  ?  and  what  wouldst  thou  ■ 
give  to  him  who  brought  thee  news  thereof?  The  king  said, 
'  O  would  that  it  could  be  so !  all  the  wealth  that  I  have  in  my 
treasury  would  I  give  to  him  who  brought  me  news  thereof, 
and  my  kingdom  would  I  give  to  the  boy;  and  I  should  be 
content  to  look  from  time  to  time  on  the  boy's  face.'  Then 
the  vezir  beckoned  to  the  boy  and  he  came  in,  and  went  and 
kissed  the  king's  hand.  As  soon  as  the  king  saw  the  boy  his 
senses  forsook  him,  and  the  vezir  sprinkled  rose-water  on  the 
king's  face  and  withdrew.  When  the  king's  senses  returned 
he  saw  the  boy  beside  him  and  he  thought  that  his  soul  had 
gone  and  returned. 

"  When  it  was  morning  the  vezir  came  before  the  king,  and 
the  king  said,  '  As  thou  hast  brought  the  boy  to  me  whole,  go, 
all  that  is  in  my  treasury  is  thine.'  The  vezir  answered,  '  O 
king  of  the  world,  rather  is  the  wealth  which  is  in  my  treasury 
thine ;  we  are  both  of  us  the  meanest  of  the  king's  slaves. 
May  God  (glorified  and  exalted  be  he!)  grant  fortune  to  our 
king  and  long  life !  We  too  shall  live  in  thy  felicity.'  The  king 
was  glad  at  the  words  of  the  vezir,  and  bestowed  many  towns 
and  villages  on  the  son  of  the  vezir,  and  offered  up  many  sacri- 
fices, and  gave  away  much  alms. 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may  take 
profit  and  not  do  a  deed  without  reflection,  that  he  be  not  after- 
ward repentant,  like  that  king,  and  suffer  not  bitter  regret  and 
remorse.  That  king  suffered  so  great  regret  and  remorse  for 
a  vezir's  son,  yet  this  one  is  the  darling  of  thine  own  heart.  The 
rest  the  king  knows.  Bew""".  O  kin^,  slay  not  the  prince  on 
the  woman's  word."  And  he  kissed  the  ground  and  made  in- 
27 


4i8  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

tercession  for  the  prince  for  that  day.     So  the  king  sent  the 
youth  to  the  prison  and  went  himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase 
and  came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and 
they  sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  commenced  to 
speak  about  the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  too  such  an 
one  of  my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him  to 
the  prison."  The  lady  said,  "  O  king,  three  things  are  the 
signs  of  folly;  the  first  is  to  put  ofî  to-day's  business  till  to- 
morrow, the  second  is  to  speak  words  foolishly,  and  the  third 
is  to  act  upon  senseless  words.  O  king,  whatsoever  thy  vezirs 
say,  that  thou  believest  straightway  and  actest  upon.  Satan 
is  of  a  surety  entered  into  these  thy  vezirs  and  into  thy  boy ; 
in  whose  heart  soever  he  plants  the  love  of  office  or  of  wealth, 
him  in  the  end  does  he  leave  without  the  faith.  Mayhap  the 
king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  the  King  and  the  Weaver." 
The  king  said,  "  Relate  it,  let  us  hear."    Quoth  the  lady : 

The  King  and  the  Weaver 

"  Of  old  time  there  was  a  great  king.  One  day  a  man  came 
before  him  and  said,  '  My  king,  I  shall  weave  a  turban  such 
that  one  born  in  wedlock  will  see  it,  while  the  bastard  will  see 
it  not.'  The  king  marvelled  and  ordered  that  that  weaver 
should  weave  that  turban ;  and  the  weaver  received  an  allow- 
ance from  the  king  and  tarried  a  long  while.  One  day  he 
folded  up  this  side  and  that  side  of  a  paper  and  brought  it  and 
laid  it  before  the  king  and  said,  *  O  king,  I  have  woven  that 
turban.'  So  the  king  opened  the  paper  and  saw  that  there 
was  nothing;  and  all  the  vezirs  and  nobles  who  stood  there 
looked  on  the  paper  and  saw  nothing.  Then  the  king  said  in 
his  heart,  '  Dost  thou  see  ?  I  am  then  a  bastard ; '  and  he  was 
sad.  And  he  thought,  '  Now,  the  remedy  is  this,  that  I  say  it  is 
a  goodly  turban  and  admire  it,  else  will  I  be  put  to  shame  before 
the  folk.'  And  he  said  '  Blessed  be  God !  O  master,  it  is  a 
goodly  turban,  I  like  it  much.' 

"  Then  that  weaver  youth  said,  '  O  king,  let  them  bring  a 
cap  that  I  may  wind  the  turban  for  the  king.'  They  brought 
a  cap,  and  the  weaver  youth  laid  that  paper  before  him  and 
moved  his  hands  as  though  he  wound  the  turban,  and  he  put 


THE   KING   AND   THE   WEAVER  419 

it  on  the  king's  head.  All  the  nobles  who  were  standing  there 
said,  '  Blessed  be  it !  O  king,  how  fair,  how  beautiful  a  tur- 
ban ! '  and  they  applauded  it  much.  Then  the  king  rose  and 
went  with  two  vezirs  into  a  private  room  and  said,  '  O  vezirs, 
I  am  then  a  bastard ;  I  see  not  the  turban.'  Quoth  the  vezirs, 
*  O  king,  we  too  see  it  not.'  At  length  they  knew  ot  a  surety 
that  the  turban  had  no  existence,  and  that  that  weaver  had  thus 
played  a  trick  for  the  sake  of  money. 

"  O  king,  thou  too  sayest,  *  On  the  morrow  will  I  kill  him ; 
I  will  do  this  and  I  will  do  that ; '  and  yet  there  is  nothing.  O 
king,  I  had  that  dream  this  night,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  is 
as  I  have  interpreted.  O  king,  if  the  king's  life  and  throne 
go,  who  knows  what  they  will  do  to  hapless  me  ?  "  And  she 
began  to  weep.  When  the  king  saw  the  lady  thus  weeping 
his  heart  was  pained  and  he  said,  "  On  the  morrow  I  will 
indeed  refuse  the  words  of  whichsoever  of  my  vezirs  makes 
intercession  for  him,  and  I  will  indeed  kill  the  youth ;  for, 
according  to  the  dream  thou  hast  had,  this  is  no  light 
affair." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  came  and  sat  upon  his  throne, 
and  he  caused  the  youth  to  be  brought  and  commanded  the 
executioner,  "  Smite  off  his  head."  Whereupon  the  thirteenth 
vezir  came  forward  and  sought  to  make  intercession,  but  the 
king  was  wroth  and  said,  "  Be  silent,  speak  not."  Thereupon 
the  vezir  drew  a  paper  from  his  breast  and  said,  "  For  God's 
sake  read  this  paper,  then  thou  wilt  know."  Then  the  king 
looked  at  the  paper  and  saw  that  there  was  written  thereon, 
"O  king,  yesterday  I  looked  at  the  astrolabe ;  for  forty  days 
is  the  prince's  ruling  star  in  very  evil  aspect,  such  that  the 
prince  may  even  lose  his  head."  Then  all  the  forty  vezirs 
came  forward  at  once  and  said,  "  O  king,  for  the  love  of  God 
and  the  honor  of  Muhammed  Mustafa,  for  the  forty  days 
have  patience  and  slay  not  the  prince ;  thereafter  it  is  certain 
that  this  affair  will  be  made  clear,  and  when  its  origin  is 
known  must  each  one  receive  his  due."  Then  said  the  vezir, 
"  There  is  a  story  suitable  to  this ;  if  the  king  grant  leave 
I  will  tell  it."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."  Quoth 
the  vezir : 


420  HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY    VEZIRS 

The  Vicissitudes  of  Life 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  great  king  and 
he  ruled  over  the  Seven  Climes.  But  he  had  neither  son  nor 
daughter,  and  he  was  ever  offering  sacrifices  in  the  way  of 
God.  One  day  God  most  high  accepted  his  sacrifice  and  be- 
stowed on  him  from  his  bounty  a  fair  son  who  was  in  his  time 
a  second  Joseph.  So  the  king  was  glad,  and  that  day  he  held  a 
high  feast,  and  at  that  feast  he  gave  robes  of  honor  and  money 
to  many  men.  After  that  he  assembled  the  astrologers  and 
made  them  cast  the  prince's  horoscope ;  and  the  astrologers 
looked  the  one  at  the  other  and  were  bewildered  and  confound- 
ed. Then  the  king  said,  '  What  see  ye  that  ye  stand  looking  the 
one  at  the  other  ?  '  The  astrologers  replied, '  O  king  of  the  world, 
we  have  cast  the  prince's  horoscope ;  and  in  the  astrolabe  and  the 
Jâmesb-Nâma  they  thus  rule,  that  from  his  thirtieth  year  to  his 
sixtieth  the  prince's  ruling  star  is  afflicted  so  that  he  shall  wander 
in  strange  lands,  with  tribulation  and  pain  for  his  companions : 
"  None  .  .  .  knoweth  the  unseen  save  God."  '  *  After  the  king 
had  heard  these  things  from  the  astrologers,  at  times  his  heart 
would  be  sad  and  at  times  he  would  plunge  into  the  ocean  of 
deliberation.  Saying,  '  God  knows  the  end  of  the  boy,'  he 
began  to  train  up  the  prince.  When  the  latter  entered  his 
seventh  year  he  appointed  him  a  teacher,  and  he  passed  some 
years  in  acquiring  reading  and  writing.  When  he  was  become 
a  young  man  his  father  got  for  him  a  king's  daughter ;  and 
after  a  time  the  prince  had  two  sons.  These  children,  too, 
in  a  little  time  acquired  knowledge ;  and  from  time  to  time 
they  would  go  out  a-pleasuring  with  their  father. 

"  One  day  the  prince's  heart  desired  a  sea-voyage,  and  he 
commanded  that  they  prepare  a  ship,  and  with  his  children 
and  forty  slaves  and  attendants  he  entered  the  ship.  For 
many  days  they  sailed  the  sea  full  pleasantly.  But  there  was 
there  a  Prankish  corsair  filled  with  infidels,  and  they  encoun- 
tered the  prince's  ship  and  straightway  flung  their  grappling- 
irons,  and  took  captive  the  prince  and  his  two  sons  and  forty 
servants,  and  went  off.  They  took  the  prince  and  the  forty 
men  and  sold  them  to  the  cannibal  negroes ;  but  the  two  boys 
they  sold  not,  but  kept  by  them.    The  negroes  fed  up  the  prince 

*  Koran,  xxvii.  66. 


THE    VICISSITUDES   OF   LIFE  421 

and  the  men  with  delicate  and  delicious  foods,  and  every  day 
they  took  one  of  them  to  their  king's  kitchen  and  cut  his  throat, 
and  cooked  him  at  the  fire  and  ate  him.  When  they  had  eaten 
the  forty  men,  the  prince's  turn  came,  him  too  they  took  and 
brought  to  the  kitchen  that  they  might  cut  his  throat.  The 
prince  perceived  that  plight,  and  he  entreated  God  in  his 
heart  to  give  him  strength,  and  he  burst  the  fetters  that  were 
round  his  wrists  and,  striking  about  with  the  chains  that  were 
in  his  hands,  he  slipped  through  them  and  rushed  out. 

"  While  he  was  running  on,  a  vast  forest  appeared  before 
him,  he  entered  it,  and  although  the  negroes  searched  for  him 
they  could  not  find  him.  Then  he  came  out  thence  and  fared 
on  many  stages  till  one  day  he  came  to  a  great  city.  The  peo- 
ple crying,  '  He  is  an  enemy,'  rushed  upon  him.  And  the 
prince  exclaimed,  '  O  Lord,  what  tribulation  is  this !  '  and 
fought  with  them.  Word  was  brought  to  their  king,  and 
he  came  and  saw  that  the  prince  was  fighting  like  a  drag- 
on. When  the  king  saw  the  prince's  valor  he  admired  it, 
and  said  to  his  soldiers  who  were  there,  '  Let  no  one  attack 
the  stranger.'  Then  the  soldiers  dispersed,  and  the  king  took 
the  prince  and  went  to  the  palace.  He  prepared  a  suit  of 
clothes,  and  sent  him  to  the  bath,  and  caused  his  head  to  be 
shaven  and  made  him  put  on  those  clothes,  and  brought  him 
back  to  the  palace.  The  king  said,  '  Come,  remain  by  me,  I 
have  a  daughter,  I  will  give  her  thee.'  The  prince  consented ; 
so  they  gave  him  the  king's  daughter ;  and  he  remained  there 
two  years  and  his  lot  was  right  pleasant.  One  day  the  prince's 
wife  died;  now  this  was  their  custom,  they  had  a  great  deep 
pit,  and  if  a  man  died  they  put  his  wife  with  him  alive  into  that 
pit,  and  if  a  woman  died  they  did  the  same  with  her  husband ; 
and  they  let  down  along  with  them  a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  pitcher 
of  water,  and  covered  over  the  pit  with  a  great  stone. 

"  So  they  brought  the  prince  and  his  wife  with  a  loaf  of 
bread  and  a  pitcher  of  water  to  that  pit,  and,  saying,  '  It  is 
our  custom,'  lowered  both  of  them  into  the  pit  and  placed  that 
great  stone  over  them.  When  the  prince  saw  himself  in  such 
case  he  was  bewildered  and  said,  '  My  God !  what  plight  is 
this ! '  and  he  prayed  to  God.  And  he  searched  the  inside  of 
the  pit  carefully  and  saw  a  fair  girl  seated  there,  and  he  asked 
her,  '  What  manner  of  girl  art  thou  ? '     She  replied,  '  I  am  a 


422  HISTORY   OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

young  bride ;  they  have  put  me  into  this  pit  with  my  husband.' 
And  the  prince  examined  the  pit,  and  saw  it  to  be  all  full  of 
the  bodies  of  men,  some  of  which  were  decayed  and  some  of 
which  were  writhing  in  the  agonies  of  death ;  and  dread  over- 
came the  prince.  Of  a  sudden,  while  he  was  seated,  a  rustling 
sound  came  from  one  part  of  the  pit ;  the  prince  knew  that  it 
was  some  beast,  and  he  arose  and  went  with  the  girl  straight 
to  that  place,  and  he  found  the  passage  through  which  that 
beast  had  come  in.  They  went  for  a  time  through  that  pas- 
sage, and  at  length  came  out  On  the  skirt  of  a  mountain  on 
the  bank  of  a  great  river.  And  they  were  glad  thereat,  and 
thanked  God  much. 

"  And  there  they  found  a  boat,  and  they  gathered  fruit  from 
that  mountain  and  filled  the  boat,  and  they  both  entered  the 
boat  and  went  along  with  the  current  of  the  river.  That  river 
grew  wider  day  by  day ;  but  it  passed  underneath  a  great 
mountain.  When  they  came  near  to  the  tunnel  under  that 
mountain  they  could  not  govern  the  boat,  and  the  water  took 
the  boat  and  bore  it  under  the  mountain.  When  the  prince 
saw  this  he  exclaimed,  '  My  God !  O  Lord !  what  tribulation 
is  this  too !  how  shall  we  escape  from  this !  '  Helpless  they  sat 
in  the  boat ;  now  the  water  dashed  the  boat  against  the  rocks, 
now  it  made  it  fly  down  precipices,  and  now  the  mountain 
became  low  and  pushed  the  boat  under  the  water ;  and  they, 
never  ceasing,  emptied  the  water  out  of  the  boat.  They  knew 
not  at  all  whither  the  boat  was  going,  neither  did  they  know 
whether  it  was  night  or  day.  For  a  long  time  they  were  a  prey 
to  that  anguish ;  and  scarce  a  spark  of  life  remained  in  their 
bodies  when,  at  length,  after  a  hundred  thousand  perils,  their 
boat  came  out  from  under  the  mountain  on  to  the  surface  of  the 
earth, 

"  They  were  glad,  and  they  drew  their  boat  to  the  shore  and 
got  out  of  it,  and  took  fruits  from  the  trees  that  were  there, 
and  ate  them.  While  standing  there  they  saw  a  great  white 
vaulted  building,  the  dome  whereof  was  of  crystal.  The  prince 
and  the  girl  went  up  to  it,  and  they  saw  that  it  was  a  great 
castle,  and  that  the  domed  building  was  within  the  castle,  and 
on  the  door  of  the  castle  was  written,  '  O  thou  who  wouldst 
open  this  door,  O  thou  who  desirest  to  overcome  this  talisman, 
bring  a  five-footed  animal  and  kill  it  before  here,  that  the  bolts 


THE   VICISSITUDES   OF    LIFE  423 

of  this  talisman  may  be  opened  thereby.'  The  prince  mar- 
velled and  said,  '  Is  there  in  the  world  a  five-footed  animal  ? ' 
and  he  wondered.  And  they  sat  by  the  gate  of  the  castle  and 
lice  tormented  them,  and  they  began  to  louse  themselves.  The 
prince  killed  a  louse,  and  straightway  the  bolts  of  the  castle 
fell,  and  they  knew  that  the  said  five-footed  animal  was  the 
louse.  Then  they  both  entered  by  a  door,  and  they  saw  a  gar- 
den, such  that  of  every  tree  which  is  in  the  world  there  was 
therein ;  and  ripe  fruits  were  hanging  there  and  running 
streams  were  flowing. 

"  And  the  prince  felt  a  longing  for  those  fruits  and  he  went 
to  pluck  one  of  them  that  he  might  eat  it,  when  he  saw  that 
those  trees  were  of  gold  and  their  fruits  of  silver  and  jewels, 
and  that  precious  stones  were  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  trees, 
scattered  like  pebbles  in  a  brook.  They  passed  through  and 
came  to  that  dome,  it  was  fashioned  of  crystal,  they  entered  by 
a  silver  door  and  saw  that  within  that  dome  was  another  dome 
all  of  pure  gold.  It  too  they  entered  and  saw  yet  another 
dome,  all  the  walls  and  the  top  of  which  were  of  ruby,  built 
after  the  fashion  of  paradise.  They  entered  it  and  saw  a  throne 
upon  which  was  a  coffin  made  of  jewels,  and  at  the  head  of  the 
coffin  was  a  tablet  whereon  was  written :  '  O  son  of  Adam, 
who  comest  hither  and  seest  me,  know  thou  that  I  was  a  king, 
and  that  all  the  world  was  in  my  hands,  and  my  wealth  was 
beyond  bounds  or  computation.  Men  and  demons  and  fairies 
and  jinn  were  my  warriors;  and  I  lived  in  the  world  for  a 
thousand  years,  and  I  never  said,  "  I  shall  die ; "  and  I  made 
not  any  preparation  against  death.  One  day,  of  a  sudden,  I 
fell  sick,  and  I  knew  of  a  surety  that  I  was  about  to  die,  and 
I  commanded  that  this  dome  was  built  in  three  days,  and  I 
made  it  a  sepulchre  for  myself.  And  by  my  head  are  two 
fountains ;  drink,  and  pray  for  me.' 

"  And  the  prince  saw  those  two  fountains  and  drank ;  and 
from  one  of  them  flowed  sugared  sherbet  and  from  the  other 
milk.  And  they  drank  of  both  of  them  and  remained  a  long 
while  by  that  grave,  and  they  nourished  themselves  on  the 
milk  and  drank  of  the  sherbet.  At  length  they  found  some 
vases,  and  they  took  of  the  milk  and  the  sherbet  and  the  jewels 
and  the  gold,  and  filled  their  boat  with  them,  and  again  set 
forth  on  their  voyage.    After  they  had  gone  for  a  time  the  wind 


424  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

drove  their  boat  upon  an  island,  and  they^  went  forth  from  the 
boat  to  look  for  fruit  on  the  mountain  that  they  might  eat. 
Of  a  sudden  a  body  of  men  came  and  seized  them;  and  the 
prince  saw  these  that  they  had  no  heads,  their  mouths  were 
in  their  breasts  and  their  eyes  in  their  shoulders,  and  their 
speech,  when  they  spake  together,  was  as  the  chirping  of  birds. 
And  they  took  the  two  and  brought  them  to  their  king;  and 
they  remained  there  prisoners  a  long  time. 

"  At  length  one  day  they  found  an  opportunity  and  escaped, 
and  again  they  entered  their  boat  and  sailed  for  a  long  time 
upon  the  sea.  Brief,  the  prince  wandered  for  thirty  years  upon 
the  seas,  sometimes  happening  among  nine-headed  men,  and 
sometimes  among  bird-headed,  and  sometimes  falling  among 
elephant-headed  folk,  and  sometimes  among  ox-headed,  and 
then  escaping;  and  each  of  them  inflicted  different  torments 
on  the  prince.  Still  God  most  high  opened  a  way  and  he 
escaped.  And  he  saw  these  strange  and  wondrous  creatures, 
and  he  marvelled.  At  length,  through  the  grace  of  God  (glori- 
fied and  exalted  be  he !),  the  wind  drove  the  prince's  ship  before 
a  city,  and  he  saw  that  the  inhabitants  of  that  country  were 
all  men,  and  he  came  out.  When  these  saw  the  prince  they 
cried,  *  He  is  a  spy,'  and  seized  him  and  bound  his  arms  behind 
his  back,  and  tied  a  rope  round  his  neck,  and  took  him  along- 
side a  horse,  and  said,  '  Our  lord  has  put  down :  when  ships 
come  from  the  sea  and  touch  at  our  country,  seize  their  spies 
and  take  them  to  our  king.'  And  the  prince  exclaimed,  '  What 
tribulation  is  this  too !  how  to  go  alongside  a  horse ! '  And 
while  he  was  praying  in  his  heart  they  reached  the  city.  And 
they  took  the  prince  in  this  plight  to  their  king. 

"  When  the  king  saw  the  prince  he  asked,  '  What  manner  of 
man  art  thou  ? '  The  prince  said,  *  Many  marvellous  things 
have  befallen  me ; '  and  he  related  his  adventures  from  their 
beginning  to  their  end.  When  the  king  heard  his  story  he 
loosed  the  prince's  bands  and  took  him  to  his  side  and  clad 
him  in  sumptuous  robes  of  honor.  The  prince  asked  for  the 
jewels  that  were  in  his  ship.  The  king  bade  bring  them  and 
said,  '  O  prince,  I  know  thy  kingdom,  and  I  heard  that  the 
Franks  had  taken  thee;  and  I  know  thy  father  too.  Come, 
go  not  away,  stay ;  I  have  a  daughter,  I  will  give  her  thee,  and 
we  shall  live  pleasantly  together.'    The  prince  replied,  '  O  king. 


THE   VICISSITUDES   OF   LIFE  425 

when  I  was  born  of  my  mother,  my  father  caused  my  horoscope 
to  be  cast,  and  the  astrologers  thus  ruled,  that  my  life  was 
afflicted  for  thirty  years  ;  mayhap  if  I  took  the  king's  daughter, 
some  evil  might  befall  the  king's  daughter  by  reason  of  my 
affliction ;  I  may  not  consent.'  Then  the  king  brought  the 
astrologers  and  made  them  cast  the  prince's  horoscope.  The 
astrologers  gave  good  news,  saying,  '  Glad  tidings  be  to  thee, 
those  thirty  afflicted  years  are  passed,  now  his  ruling  star  has 
entered  the  sign  of  good  fortune.'  The  prince  was  exceeding 
glad  and  joyful. 

"  Thereupon  the  king  commanded  that  they  made  ready  a 
festival,  and  he  gave  his  daughter  to  the  prince,  and  he  greatly 
honored  and  reverenced  him.  After  some  time  the  king  died, 
and  the  prince  became  king  in  his  stead.  One  day  when  he 
was  seated  on  his  throne  they  said,  '  O  king,  a  Frank  has  come 
with  much  merchandise ;  if  the  king  grant  leave,  he  will  bring 
his  merchandise.'  The  king  replied,  '  There  is  leave,  let  him 
bring  it.'  And  the  Frank  brought  his  merchandise  before  the 
king.  The  king  saw  his  two  sons  at  the  Frank's  side,  then  the 
blood  of  love  boiled,  and  the  affection  of  paternity  yearned 
for  them ;  and  he  asked  that  Frank,  '  Are  these  youths  thine  ? ' 
The  Frank  answered,  '  They  are  my  slaves.'  The  king  said, 
'  I  will  buy  them.'  And  he  took  the  youths  to  a  place  apart 
and  said,  '  Where  did  this  Frank  get  you  ? '  Then  they  re- 
lated their  adventures  from  their  beginning  to  their  end ;  and 
the  king  knew  of  a  certainty  that  they  were  his  own  sons,  and 
he  pressed  them  to  his  heart  and  kissed  each  of  them  on  the 
eyes,  and  said,  *  I  am  your  father.'  Then  the  king  arose ;  and 
they  killed  the  Frank  with  a  thousand  torments. 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may  know 
that  haps  such  as  this  often  befall  princes.  Their  happy  for- 
tune passes  into  the  sign  of  inauspiciousness,  and  they  become 
a  prey  to  a  thousand  tribulations  and  distresses,  so  that  even 
gold  turns  into  black  earth  in  their  hands,  and  all  their  friends 
become  enemies  to  them.  Afterward  the  malefic  aspect  gives 
place  to  prosperity  and  auspiciousness,  then  everyone  is  their 
friend.  O  king,  this  youth's  ruling  star  is  likewise  afflicted 
for  a  few  days.  Beware,  O  king,  until  the  days  of  the  malefic 
aspect  be  fulfilled,  slay  not  the  youth,  else  afterward  thou  wilt 
be  repentant,  and  too  late  repentance  profits  not.    The  rest  the 


426  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

king  knows."  When  the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  vezir 
he  asked  for  the  youth's  governor,  but  he  could  not  be  found. 
So  again  he  sent  the  youth  to  the  prison  and  went  himself  to 
the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  again  began  to  speak 
about  the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  also  such  an  one 
of  my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him  to  the 
prison."  And  he  related  to  the  lady  that  story  which  the 
vezir  had  told.  Then  said  the  lady,  "  O  king,  the  reason  of 
these  vezirs  stirring  up  trouble  is  that  they  wish  to  sow  enmity 
between  thee  and  me.  Beware,  O  king,  go  not  by  the  words 
of  these,  but  follow  well  my  words,  that  thy  present  state  and 
thy  hereafter  may  be  happy.  When  God  most  high  decrees 
good  between  husband  and  wife  he  gives  mildness  and  accord. 
And,  moreover,  O  king,  be  it  good  news  to  thee,  a  week  ago 
did  I  conceive  by  thee ;  till  now  I  have  not  told  thee,  but  now 
I  have  told  thee  and  do  thou  believe  it  true."  And  the  king 
believed  it.  Then  she  continued,  "  O  king,  lo,  these  vezirs 
say  that  this  youth's  star  has  fallen  into  a  malefic  aspect.  His 
star  became  afîlicted  what  time  he  made  for  thy  life  and  thy 
kingdom  and  for  me.  God  most  high  aided  us  and  afîlicted 
his  star  and  brought  down  his  head."  And  the  lady  was  glad 
and  said,  "  Thy  true  son  is  he  that  is  in  my  womb ;  that  youth 
is  without  doubt  base-born.  Mayhap  the  king  has  not  heard 
the  story  of  him  who  had  no  sons."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on, 
let  us  hear."    Quoth  the  lady : 

The  King  and  the  Sheykh 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  great  king,  and  he 
had  neither  son  nor  daughter.  And  there  was  in  his  country 
a  sheykh  whose  prayers  were  answered.  One  day  the  king, 
while  conversing  with  the  sheykh,  said,  '  O  sheykh,  God 
most  high  has  given  me  no  son ;  do  thou  strive  in  prayer  that 
God  most  high  give  me  a  son.'  The  sheykh  replied,  *  Send 
an  offering  to  the  convent  that  the  dervishes  may  eat,  and  we 
shall  pray  for  thee ;  God  most  high  is  a  gracious  king,  he 
will  give  thee  a  son.'     Now  the  king  had  a  golden-ankleted 


THE    KING   AND   THE   SHEYKH  427 

fat  ram  that  was  valiant  in  fight ;  and  he  sent  that  ram  to  the 
sheykh's  convent  with  some  loads  of  rice  and  honey  and  oil. 
That  night  the  dervishes  ate  and  were  pleased ;  and  the  sheykh 
sent  of  that  meat  in  an  earthen  bowl  to  the  king,  saying,  '  Let 
him  desire  a  son  and  eat  of  the  dervishes'  portion.'  Then  the 
dervishes  danced,  after  which  they  prayed  and  besought  of 
God  a  son  for  the  king.  By  the  divine  decree  the  king's  wife 
conceived  that  night,  and  in  a  short  time  she  brought  forth  a 
moon- faced  boy. 

"  The  king  was  delighted,  and  called  the  people  of  the  coun- 
try to  the  feast;  and  he  took  the  prince  and  laid  him  on  the 
sheykh's  skirt,  and  he  bestowed  many  gifts  on  the  sheykh's 
convent.  One  day,  some  time  after  that,  when  the  king  was 
conversing  with  the  sheykh,  he  said,  '  O  sheykh,  what  if  thou 
were  to  pray  and  beseech  of  God  another  son  for  me  ? '  The 
sheykh  replied,  '  The  favors  of  God  are  many ;  to  pray  is  ours, 
to  give  is  his ;  send  then  an  offering  to  the  dervishes.'  Now 
the  king  had  a  favorite  plump  horse,  that  sent  he  forthwith 
to  the  convent.  The  devotees  cut  its  throat  and  roasted  it, 
and  again  sent  an  earthen  bowl  of  it  to  the  king.  They  ate 
the  rest  themselves,  and  prayed  and  besought  of  God  a  son 
for  the  king.  By  the  divine  decree  the  lady  again  conceived, 
and  in  a  short  time  she  brought  forth  a  moon-faced  boy.  And 
the  king  was  delighted  and  sent  many  gifts  to  the  dervishes. 
Some  time  afterward  the  king  requested  the  sheykh  to  beg  of 
God  yet  another  son.  The  sheykh  said,  '  To  pray  is  ours,  to 
give  is  God's ;  send  again  an  offering  to  the  devotees.'  Now 
the  king  had  a  good  mule,  that  sent  he  to  the  convent.  The 
devotees  sold  that  mule  and  took  its  price  and  therewith  pre- 
pared a  confection.  And  they  sent  a  bowl  of  that  too  to  the 
king.  AJter  the  dance  they  prayed  and  besought  of  God  a 
son  for  the  king. 

"  Again  the  king's  wife  conceived  and  gave  birth  to  a  moon- 
faced boy.  And  the  king  was  glad  and  sent  many  gifts  to 
the  dervishes.  When  the  king's  sons  grew  up,  the  eldest 
turned  out  very  valiant;  the  second  proved  swift  of  foot  and 
accomplished  and  possessed  of  understanding  and  sagacity; 
but  the  youngest  was  ill-omened  and  ill-natured,  and  oppressed 
men,  and  wounded  and  wasted  the  hearts  of  many  poor  creat- 
ures with  the  sword  of  his  tongue.     And  the  king  was  sore 


428  HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

grieved  because  of  him.  One  day  while  conversing-  with  the 
sheykh  he  complained  of  his  youngest  son  and  said,  *  O  sheykh, 
would  that  we  had  not  besought  of  God  that  youngest  boy.' 
The  sheykh  replied,  '  O  king,  why  art  thou  grieved  ?  thou  art 
thyself  the  cause  of  that  youth  being  thus.'  The  king  asked, 
'  How  am  I  the  cause  ?  '  The  sheykh  answered,  '  First  thou 
gavest  in  the  cause  of  God  a  ram  ^  among  beasts,  and  God 
most  high  hath  given  thee  a  son  of  courage  among  men ; 
then  thou  gavest  in  the  cause  of  God  a  courser  of  the  plain 
of  earth  among  beasts,  and  God  most  high  hath  given  thee 
a  courser  of  the  plain  of  glory  and  fortune  and  understanding 
and  accomplishments  among  men ;  and  after  that  thou  gavest 
in  the  cause  of  God  an  ill-omened  and  base-born  brute  among 
beasts,  and  God  hath  given  thee  such  an  one  among  men.  O 
king,  he  who  sows  barley  reaps  not  wheat.'  In  the  end  the 
king  got  no  rest  until  he  had  killed  the  youth. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  from  this  ill-omened,  base-born  one  no  good  will 
come.  They  have  said  that  the  base-born  are  of  two  classes ; 
the  one  the  fruit  of  adultery,  the  other  the  fruit  of  illicit  union. 
This  thy  son  is  without  doubt  of  one  of  these  two  sets ;  lo, 
thy  true-born  offspring  is  about  to  come  into  existence." 
When  the  king  heard  these  beguiling  words  of  the  lady  he 
said,  "  On  the  morrow  will  I  kill  the  youth,  be  not  sad." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  came  and  sat  upon  his  throne 
and  ordered  the  executioner  that  he  bring  the  youth,  and 
he  said,  "  Smite  ofî  his  head."  The  fifteenth  vezir  came  for- 
ward and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  it  is  not  seemly  to  kill 
the  prince  in  compliance  with  the  woman's  word,  for  the  angels 
that  are  in  heaven  are  not  safe  against  woman's  wiles.  Hast 
thou  heard  the  story  of  the  King's  Remorse  ?  "  The  king  said, 
"  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir: 

The  King's  Remorse 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  famous  king  and 
God  most  high  had  given  him  a  son.  After  some  time  the 
son  became  afflicted  with  a  heartburn,  and  he  would  ever  com- 
plain of  his  heart.  The  king  brought  together  all  the  physi- 
cians that  were  to  be  got,  and  they  treated  the  boy's  ailment ; 

"  The  ram  is  a  type  of  courage. 


THE    KING'S   REMORSE  429 

but  it  was  in  vain,  the  physicians  were  powerless.  As  often 
as  the  boy  said,  '  Father,  my  heart,'  the  king  would  say,  '  Son, 
my  heart  aches  more  than  thy  heart ; '  and  the  king  was  afflicted 
at  his  pain.  At  length  the  boy  died.  After  the  dismay,  the 
king  came  up  by  the  boy  and  said,  '  Cut  him  open  that  I  may 
see  what  pain  was  in  his  heart.'  When  they  had  cut  open 
the  boy  the  king  saw  that  a  bone  had  grown  on  the  top  of 
his  heart.  The  king  ordered  that  they  took  out  that  bone  and 
then  buried  the  boy ;  and  the  king  caused  that  bone  to  be  made 
into  the  handle  of  a  knife. 

"  One  day  they  placed  a  water-melon  before  the  king ;  the 
king  cut  the  melon  with  that  knife  and  ate  some  of  it,  and  he 
stuck  the  knife  into  the  remains  of  the  melon  and  left  it. 
Then  the  king  caused  the  chess  things  to  be  brought  and  he 
began  to  play;  afterward  he. went  to  take  up  the  knife  when 
he  saw  that  the  part  of  the  handle  which  had  penetrated  into 
the  melon  was  melted  and  had  vanished.  As  soon  as  the  king 
saw  this  he  exclaimed,  '  Dost  thou  see  ?  the  cure  for  my  son's 
sickness  was  water-melon ;  and  I  knew  it  not.'  And  his  heart 
was  grieved  thereat,  and  he  began  to  weep,  and  said,  '  Son,  it 
has  gone  from  thy  heart  and  come  into  my  heart ;  would  that 
thou  hadst  not  come  to  earth ! '  And  at  length  that  king  died 
of  anguish  of  soul. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst 
beware  and  slay  not  thy  child  on  the  woman's  word,  lest  thou 
too  die  of  anguish  of  soul."  And  he  kissed  the  ground  and 
made  intercession  for  the  prince.  When  the  king  heard  this 
story  from  the  vezir  he  sent  the  youth  to  the  prison  and  went 
himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
passed  on  and  sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  began  to 
speak  about  the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  This  day  also  such 
an  one  of  my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him 
to  the  prison."  The  lady  said,  "  O  king,  this  youth  is  a  dragon, 
until  he  be  killed  thou  shalt  not  be  safe  from  his  malice ;  it  is 
even  as  it  was  with  a  certain  king  who  until  he  had  killed  his 
son  could  not  escape  from  his  pain ;  mayhap  the  king  has  not 
heard  that  story."  Then  the  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear." 
Quoth  the  lady: 


430 


HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY    VEZIRS 


Luqman's  Device 

"  They  have  related  that  a  great  king  was  wroth  with  Luq- 
mân,"  and  commanded  that  they  lowered  him  into  a  pit  and 
closed  up  the  mouth  of  the  pit  with  a  great  stone.  By  Luqman 
the  sage  was  a  pill,  of  the  bigness  of  a  walnut,  which  he  had 
made  by  his  science.  He  ever  smelled  it,  and  his  hunger  was 
satisfied  and  his  thirst  was  quenched ;  and  for  a  long  time  he 
remained  in  that  pit.  The  king  who  imprisoned  him  died,  and 
his  son  became  king  in  his  stead.  And  sickness  seized  upon 
this  king ;  and  the  physicians  treated  him,  but  he  grew  no  bet- 
ter, and  his  trouble  increased  upon  him.  They  were  helpless 
and  said,  '  O  king,  had  Luqman  been  alive  he  could  have  cured 
thy  pain.'  Then  said  the  king,  '  What  manner  of  man  was 
Luqman  ? '  They  replied,  '  Thy  father  was  wroth  with  him 
and  put  him  into  the  pit ;  by  now  his  bones  are  rotten.  But 
Luqman  was  a  man  such  that  God  most  high  hath  mentioned 
him  in  the  noble  Koran ;  such  a  sage  has  never  come  to  earth.' 
The  king  said,  '  If  it  be  so,  open  the  pit,  belike  he  has  in  some 
way  saved  himself.' 

"  They  went  and  opened  that  pit  and  went  down  and  saw 
him  sitting  there,  and  they  came  and  told  the  king.  The  king 
said,  '  Quick,  go  bring  him.'  They  went  to  pull  him  out  of 
the  pit,  when  Luqman  said,  '  If  the  king  wish  me,  wrap  me 
in  cotton  and  draw  me  out ;  and  bring  to  me  a  leech  every 
night.'  They  did  so,  and  after  forty  days  he  arose  and  came 
before  the  king,  and  he  saw  the  king  lying  without  strength. 
After  praising  and  lauding  him,  he  asked  of  the  king's  trouble 
and  felt  his  pulse,  and  said,  '  O  king,  thou  hast  a  hard  sickness.' 
Then  he  asked,  *  Has  the  king  a  son  ? '  They  replied,  '  He 
has.'  Luqman  said,  *  O  king,  until  the  throat  of  thy  son  be  cut 
and  his  blood  rubbed  on  thy  body,  this  thy  pain  will  not  leave 
thee.'  The  king  answered,  '  O  Luqman,  thou  art  thyself  a 
great  man;  I  will  consent  to  my  own  death,  but  I  will  not 
consent  to  my  son's.'  Quoth  Luqman,  '  O  king,  I  have  told 
thee  the  cure ;  the  rest  thou  knowest.'  And  he  arose  and  went 
away. 

"  After  some  days  the  king's  trouble  increased,  and  he  called 


*  A    legendary    sage.      He    here    pre- 
tends to  kill  the  boy,  that  the  king  may 


recover  through  joy  on  finding  his  son 
alive. 


LUQMAN'S   DEVICE  431 

Luqman  to  his  side  and  said,  '  O  Luqman,  is  there  no  other 
remedy  ?  '  Luqman  answered,  '  O  king,  there  is  no  cure  save 
the  cutting  of  thy  son's  throat.'  The  king's  soul  came  up  to 
his  throat  through  that  trouble.  Quoth  Luqman,  '  O  king, 
when  thou  art  well,  sons  will  not  be  lacking  thee.'  Then  said 
the  king,  '  Now  get  the  boy  and  cut  his  throat  in  a  distant 
place  that  mine  eyes  see  it  not.'  Luqman  said,  '  There  is  no 
good  if  it  be  done  in  another  place,  it  is  needful  that  it  be  done 
before  thine  eyes.'  Then  they  gave  the  boy  into  Luqman's 
hands.  And  Luqman  bound  the  boy's  hands  and  feet,  and 
cunningly  tied  a  bladder  filled  with  blood  round  the  boy's 
throat,  and  laid  him  down  before  the  king.  Then  he  took  a 
diamond  knife  in  his  hand  and  said,  '  O  king,  now  look,  see 
how  I  cut  the  prince's  throat.' 

"  When  the  king's  two  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  boy,  he  struck 
against  the  boy's  throat  with  the  knife  and  the  blood  gushed 
out.  When  the  king  saw  the  blood  on  the  boy's  throat  he 
sighed ;  and  when  Luqman  saw  him  he  thanked  God.  And 
straightway  he  raised  the  boy  from  the  ground  and  kissed 
his  two  eyes ;  and  Luqman  said,  '  O  king,  I  could  find  no  other 
way  to  turn  off  thy  sickness  than  this  trick.'  Then  the  king 
greatly  applauded  Luqman  and  bestowed  upon  him  much 
wealth. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  until  the  king 
have  killed  his  son,  he  too  will  have  no  security  from  trouble." 
When  the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  lady  he  was  wroth 
and  said,  "  To-morrow  will  I  kill  him." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  went  and  sat  upon  his  throne 
and  he  caused  the  youth  to  be  brought  and  ordered  the  exe- 
cutioner, "  Smite  off  his  head."  The  sixteenth  vezir  came 
forward  and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  it  is  not  beseeming 
thy  glory  that  thou  castest  to  the  waters  the  words  of  the 
vezirs;  for  men  are  either  good  or  bad  concerning  the  king, 
whatsoever  they  say,  the  king  is  informed  thereof,  and  the 
king  is  given  word  of  evil  or  hurt  about  to  be,  and  all  that 
goes  on  without  is  known  to  the  king,  that  he  may  make  prep- 
aration accordingly.  It  is  even  as  in  the  tradition,  '  Speak 
to  men  according  to  their  understanding.'  Mayhap  my  king  has 
not  heard  the  story  of  the  dervish  and  the  king."  The  king 
said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Ouoth  the  vezir : 


432  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 


The  King  and  the  Dervish 

"  There  was  in  a  palace  of  the  world  a  king  and  his  name 
was  Aydin  (light).  One  day  a  dervish  came  before  him  and 
spake  pleasantly  with  fair  discretion ;  and  whatsoever  they 
asked,  he  answered  the  whole  of  it,  and  his  every  word  seemed 
good  to  the  king.  The  king  said,  '  O  dervish,  go  not  away, 
let  us  spend  this  evening  together.'  The  dervish  blessed  him 
and  said,  '  On  head  and  eye.'  Now  it  was  then  very  cold.  So 
the  king  took  the  dervish,  and  they  went  to  the  palace  and  sat 
down.  The  king  ordered  that  they  laid  wood  upon  the  fire- 
place and  set  light  to  it,  whereupon  the  dervish  repeated  these 

verses — 

'  Take  in  winter  fire  from  garden-land  ; 
Take  the  goblet  from  the  drunken  band  ; 
Should  there  no  loveling  for  cup-bearer  be. 
Take  from  orange-breasted  damsel's  hand.' 


'0^ 


"  As  these  verses  seemed  right  good  to  the  king,  he  wrote 
them  in  his  album ;  and  he  said  to  the  dervish,  '  Tell  some 
merry  story.'  Quoth  the  dervish,  '  O  king,  once  there  was  a 
king,  and  by  him  there  was  a  devotee.  One  day  they  said  to  the 
king,  "  Yon  devotee  is  a  Râfizî."  ^  The  king,  to  try  him,  one 
day  asked  that  devotee,  "  O  devotee,  lovest  thou  Saint  Abu 
Bekr  the  True  ? "  The  devotee  replied,  "  Nay."  He  said, 
"  Lovest  thou  Saint  'Omar?  "  He  answered,  "  Nay."  "  Then 
lovest  thou  Saint  'Othmân?"  He  answered,  "Nay,  nay." 
"  Then  lovest  thou  Saint  'AH  the  Approved  ?  "  He  answered, 
"  Nay."  Thereupon  the  king's  difficulties  from  being  one  be- 
came two,  and  he  thought  and  said  in  himself,  "  If  this  devotee 
were  a  Râfizî,  he  would  love  Saint  'Ali,  though  he  loved  not 
the  other  Noble  Companions  our  Lords ;  if  he  were  a  Sunni, 
he  would  love  all  of  the  Four  Chosen  Friends  our  Lords." 
And  he  turned  and  said  to  the  devotee,  "  Thou  lovest  none  of 
the  Glorious  Companions,  whom  then  lovest  thou?  " 

"  '  The  devotee  replied,  "  There  is  at  the  gate  of  the  bazaar  a 
loveling  of  the  age ;  lo,  that  is  whom  I  love."  The  king  was 
pleased  with  this  jest  of  the  devotee  and  gave  him  many  gifts.' 
And  that  dervish  told  stories  such  as  this  to  the  king,  and  he 

'  An  adherent  of  the  Shi'a  sect,  which        Bekr,    'Othmân    and    'Omar    as    lawful 
acknowledges    'Alî,    but    rejects    Abu-        caliphs. 


THE    KING   AND   THE    DERVISH 


433 


amused  the  king  with  many  jests.  That  night  they  ate  and 
drank,  and  when  their  converse  was  finished,  drowsiness  came 
upon  the  king,  and  he  would  have  lain  down,  but  the  devotee 
was  at  ease  and  would  not  rise  and  go.  The  slaves  thought 
to  say  to  the  devotee,  '  Arise  and  go,'  but  they  feared  the  king 
and  were  silent.  The  king  too  wished  that  the  devotee  might 
perceive  by  his  discretion  that  he  should  arise ;  but  where  was 
that  discretion  ?    The  king  looked,  but  it  was  not. 

"  Then  he  called  to  his  servants,  '  Strike  the  fagot  that  the 
glow  (ishiq)  may  go  out.'  The  servants  understood  not  and 
remained  still.  Thereupon  the  devotee  said,  'Why  wait  ye? 
Strike  the  log  that  the  light  (ay din)  may  spring  up.'  Now  the 
king's  name  was  Aydin  (light)  and  the  devotee's  name  was 
Ishiq  (glow).^  The  king  said,  '  I  sent  thee  off  with  a  fagot, 
that  is  struck  thee  with  a  fagot,  but  thou  didst  strike  me  with  a 
log.'  The  devotee  said,  '  My  king,  thou  didst  not  strike  me  with 
a  fagot,  neither  did  I  strike  my  king  with  a  log;  so  do  thou 
rest  on  the  one  side  of  the  hearth  and  I  shall  rest  on  the  other.' 
And  the  king  was  pleased  with  these  words  of  the  devotee  ;  and 
they  lay  down  and  rested. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst 
know  that  a  certain  freedom  is  usual  with  the  accomplished. 
Now  there  are  no  learned  men  equal  to  these  forty  vezirs  of 
my  king,  each  one  of  whom  utters  these  many  good  sayings 
and  fair  words ;  and  indeed  the  good  or  bad  of  these  has 
many  a  time  been  tried.  And  what  is  incumbent  upon  my 
king  is  this,  that  he  listen  not  to  the  words  of  these  inattentively 
nor  cast  them  to  the  winds."  The  king  said,  "  This  demand 
leaves  me  in  bewilderment.  Our  Lord  the  Apostle  of  God 
hath  said  concerning  women,  that  they  are  enemies  to  you, 
but  that  one  of  them  is  needful  to  each  of  you.  And  God  most 
high  hath  said  in  his  glorious  Word,  '  Your  wealth  and  your 
children  are  but  a  trial.'  ^  Now  I  ask  these  affairs  of  this  youth 
and  he  answers  not  at  all ;  and  so  long  as  he  will  not  speak, 
will  my  difificulty  remain  unsolved.  Thus  it  seems  to  me  that 
this  youth  has  done  this  wantonness,  and  therefore  cannot 
speak." 

When  the  vezir  saw  this  much  consideration  on  the  part  of 

«  So  the  point  of  this  story  turns  upon  »  Koran,  viii.   128,  and  Ixiv.   15. 

an  untranslatable  pun. 
28 


434  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

the  king  he  said,  "  My  king,  in  everything  the  mysterious 
workings  of  God  most  high  are  many;  let  not  my  king  re- 
gard the  not  speaking  of  the  youth.  One  day  will  he  speak 
indeed ;  yea,  there  is  also  in  that  noble  verse  concerning  chil- 
dren, '  And  God :  with  him  is  great  reward.'  "  And  he  kissed 
the  ground  and  made  intercession  for  the  prince.  And  the 
king  sent  the  youth  to  the  prison  and  went  himself  to  the 
chase.  That  day,  when  they  were  hunting,  a  deer  rose,  and 
the  hounds  pursued  it,  and  all  the  attendants  pushed  their 
horses  after  that  deer,  and  the  king  too  pushed  on.  Each 
one  went  in  a  different  direction,  and  the  king  was  left  alone. 
When  it  was  evening  there  was  with  him  no  attendant  nor 
anyone;  the  king  looked  and  there  was  none,  and  he  said, 
"  There  is  in  this  some  divine  working."  And  straightway  he 
disguised  himself  and  pushed  on  and  came  to  a  village  and 
was  guest  in  a  shepherd's  house. 

On  the  morrow  he  rose  betimes,  and  while  he  was  watching 
the  sheep  and  lambs,  he  looked  and  saw  a  lamb  that  had  lost 
its  mother.  Seeking  about,  it  went  up  to  a  sheep,  and  that 
sheep  butted  at  the  lamb,  and  the  lamb  fell.  It  rose  again  and 
went  to  another  sheep;  and  that  sheep  likewise  butted  at  the 
lamb.  The  king  asked  this  from  the  shepherd,  "  Why  do  these 
sheep  butt  at  that  lamb?"  The  shepherd  said,  "To-day  this 
lamb's  mother  died ;  these,  being  not  its  mother,  receive  it  not." 
Then  the  king  sighed  in  his  soul  and  said  in  his  heart,  "  May 
God  most  high  leave  not  a  servant  of  his  an  orphan." 

Let  us  to  our  story:  The  attendants  returned  to  the  city, 
and  each  one  turned  his  horse's  head  straight  to  the  palace. 
They  arrived  at  the  castle,  and  one  of  them  called  out  and 
learned  the  circumstance  (of  the  king's  absence)  from  the 
watchmen ;  so  they  went  to  look  for  news  of  the  king.  On  the 
other  hand  the  watchmen  informed  the  grand  vezir  of  the 
matter;  and  straightway  the  grand  vezir  commanded  that  all 
of  those  watchmen  were  secured  in  prison,^"  and  he  himself 
walked  about  the  city  till  morning.  He  sent  a  vezir  to  the 
king's  attendants,  saying,  "  Go  tell  the  attendants  that  they 
publish  not  this  affair,  and  do  thou  go  with  the  whole  of  them 
to  seek  the  king."  On  her  part,  the  lady  looked  and  the  time 
passed  and  the  king  came  not,  and  she  caused  the  grand  vezir 

I"  To  prevent  their  spreading  the  report  of  the  king's  disappearance. 


THE   KING   AND   THE    DERVISH  435 

to  be  questioned ;  the  vezir  sent  word  to  her,  "  This  night  there 
is  a  great  council ;  our  king  will  not  go  in." 

The  vezir  questioned  the  king's  attendants ;  and  while  they 
were  going  to  the  place  where  they  had  left  the  king,  the  king 
himself  set  out  from  the  village  where  he  was  and  came  to  the 
place  where  the  attendants  had  dispersed.  The  attendants  saw 
the  king,  and  brought  word  to  the  vezir ;  so  the  vezir  pushed 
on  his  horse  and  came  up  to  the  king.  The  king  said  in  his 
heart,  "  These  will  have  enthroned  the  prince  and  sent  this 
vezir  to  me ;  now  is  he  coming  to  give  me  the  sherbet ;  O 
how  the  lady's  words  were  true !  "  The  vezir  saw  from  the 
king's  countenance  that  he  was  thinking  thus,  and  he  came 
up  quickly  to  him,  and  kissed  the  ground  before  the  king,  and 
said,  "My  king,  what  plight  is  this  plight?  Is  it  beseeming 
to  remain  without  at  such  a  time?  Above  all,  as  the  prince 
has  been  these  many  days  imprisoned,  everyone  says  that  the 
king's  senses  have  well  nigh  left  him," 

Thereupon  the  king  said,  "  Have  ye  taken  the  prince  from 
prison  ?  "  The  vezir  replied,  "  Nay,  my  king ;  the  grand  vezir 
secured  in  prison  the  watchmen  who  had  learned  of  my  king's 
remaining  out  in  the  evening  from  the  attendants  who  came 
to  the  gate ;  and  he  sent  me  and  the  attendants  to  seek  my 
king."  The  king's  mind  was  somewhat  comforted,  but  his 
heart  would  not  believe.  Then  the  vezir  perceived  that  the 
king's  heart  was  not  at  ease  and  he  said  to  the  king,  "  My 
king,  thy  grand  vezir  sent  me  hither  in  the  evening;  to  learn 
the  events  of  to-day  are  my  eyes  now  on  the  road."  And  he 
kissed  the  ground  and  was  silent.  The  king  said,  "  If  we  went 
on  now  it  were  too  quick ;  but  let  an  attendant  go  and  inform 
the  vezir  of  the  affair."  They  sent  on  an  attendant ;  and  that 
day,  when  it  was  evening,  the  king  came  to  the  palace  and 
found  everything  in  its  proper  place,  and  his  heart  was  again 
at  rest  concerning  his  vezir. 

After  the  repast  he  entered  the  harem.  The  lady  had  rubbed 
a  dye  upon  her  eyes  and  made  them  red,  and  she  rose  to  greet 
the  king  as  if  weeping ;  and  the  king  passed  on  and  sat  in  his 
place.  When  cofifee  and  sherbets  had  been  drunk  she  asked  of 
the  haps  of  the  night,  and  the  king  related  the  events  to  her. 
She  said.  "  O  king,  the  thing  thou  hast  done  might  be  in  two 
ways ;  the  one,  of  purpose,  to  distinguish  between  friend  and 


436  HISTORY   OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

foe;  the  other,  by  chance.  In  this  instance  thou  hast  passed 
the  evening  outside  by  chance,  and  thy  heart  is  at  ease  for 
that  thy  vezirs  have  done  no  unseemly  deed.  But,  my  king, 
beware,  trust  not  these  vezirs ;  for  they  would  make  the  youth 
king.  Praise  be  to  God !  thou  art  well,  but  they  still  watch  their 
opportunity ;  and  this  youth  has  no  dread  of  thee,  thou  hast 
brought  him  up  full  insolent ;  that  is  not  good.  And  they  have 
said  that  if  a  person  treat  thee  as  a  brother,  do  thou  treat  him 
as  a  master  and  deem  him  great.  Kings  are  like  fire ;  if  thou 
be  a  lion,  thou  must  be  on  thy  guard  against  the  fire,  even 
as  lions  are  on  their  guard  against  fire. 

"  There  is  a  fable  suitable  to  this :  The  lynxes  go  along  with 
the  lion,  but  they  go  not  close  to  him.  One  day  they  asked 
one  of  them,  '  Thou  goest  along  with  the  lion ;  why  goest 
thou  not  near  to  him  ? '  He  replied,  '  Firstly,  the  lion  hunts 
beasts  and  I  eat  his  leavings ;  secondly,  when  an  enemy  comes 
against  me  I  go  to  him  and  take  refuge ;  as  these  two  things 
are  good  for  me  I  go  along  with  him.  And  the  reason  of  my 
going  not  near  is  this,  that  his  glory  is  that  of  a  render,  one 
day  it  might  be  that  he  should  rend  me  like  the  leopard ; 
therefore  go  I  not  near  him.'  Wise  is  he  who  acts  before 
kings  like  the  lynx;  for  nearness  to  the  sultan  is  a  burning 
fire.  Even  as  the  lynx  is  content  with  and  eats  the  lion's  leav- 
ings, must  the  wise  man  be  content  with  the  king's  leavings ; 
else,  if  he  stretch  forth  his  hand  to  the  morsel  that  is  in  the 
king's  mouth — the  plight  of  him  who  stretches  forth  his  hand 
is  notorious.  If  an  enemy  appear,  it  is  needful  to  take  refuge 
with  the  king ;  so  one  must  ever  be  between  dread  and  entreaty, 
and  must  measure  his  words.  A  word  is  like  an  arrow  that 
has  left  the  bow,  when  once  it  leaves  the  mouth  it  returns  not 
again.  Mayhap  my  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  Sultan 
İNlahmûd  ^  and  Hasan  of  Maymand."  -  The  king  said,  "  Tell 
on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  lady : 

MahmOd  and  Hasan 

"  A  word  was  the  cause  of  Sultan  Mahmûd  dismissing  his 
vezir  Hasan  of  Maymand,  and  confiscating  all  his  property 
and  banishing  him.     So  what  could  Hasan  of  Maymand  do 

'  Sultan   Mahmûd,   the  son  of  Sebuk-        not  of  Sultan  Mahmûd,  but  of  that  mon- 
tekin,  of  Ghazni.  arch's  father.    Hasan's  son,  Ahmed,  was 

=  Hasan  of  Maymand  was  a  minister,        Mahmud's  vezir. 


MAHMÜD   AND   HASAN  437 

but  yield  consent  to  misfortune  and  bear  calamity  with  pa- 
tience ?  One  day,  during  his  exile,  while  he  was  passing  along 
a  street,  a  group  of  children  were  playing,  one  was  prince  and 
one  was  vezir.  The  prince  got  angry  and  wished  to  banish  the 
vezir  and  confiscate  his  property.  The  child  who  was  vezir 
said,  'Art  thou  just  or  art  thou  a  tyrant?'  The  prince  an- 
swered, '  I  am  just.'  Then  said  the  vezir,  '  Thou  art  just ;  well, 
when  I  came  to  thee  I  was  young,  and  I  have  spent  my  life 
in  thy  service  and  gained  my  property ;  now  thou  confiscatest 
my  property  and  takest  away  my  office,  I  now  ask  back  from 
thee  my  life  that  I  have  spent  in  thy  service;  if  thou  be  just, 
it  is  right  that  thou  give  me  my  life.'  The  prince  was  silent 
and  made  that  child  vezir  again. 

"  Hasan  of  Maymand  liked  the  child's  words,  and  straight- 
way he  went  and  composed  a  petition  and  sent  it  to  Sultan 
Mahmûd.  When  the  petition  arrived  they  took  it  and  gave  it 
to  the  king.  The  king  read  it,  and  when  he  perceived  its  im- 
port, he  straightway  ordained  that  he  was  pardoned  and  rein- 
stated in  his  office.  So  he  was  dismissed  by  one  word  and 
reinstated  by  one  word. 

"  O  king,  I  deemed  this  story  suitable  in  that  a  master  of 
speech  comes  not  readily  to  hand ;  and  a  master  of  speech  is 
one  who  knows  the  speech  that  ought  to  be  spoken.  For  speech 
is  of  two  kinds ;  one  kind  is  truth,  another  kind  is  folly.  A 
wise  man  distinguishes  between  the  speech  of  a  sage  and  the 
speech  of  a  fool.  A  sage  speaks  with  understanding,  but  a 
fool  speaks  with  trickery.  The  man  who  distinguishes  not 
between  these  is  like  a  beast,  for  a  beast  knows  only  when  it 
is  hungry  and  when  it  is  full.  Now  this  thy  degenerate  son 
has  made  for  thy  life  and  thy  throne ;  this  is  beseeming,  that 
thou  give  him  neither  grace  nor  time.  Thou  must  kill  him 
to-morrow,  else  he  will  slay  thee."  When  the  king  heard  this 
story  from  the  lady  he  said,  "  To-morrow  will  I  finish  his 
affair." 

When  it  was  morning  and  the  sun  .shed  light  (ay din)  and^ 
like  the  words  of  the  king  and  the  dervish,  the  glow  (ishiq) 
appeared,  and  the  world  was  illuminated  with  radiance,  the 
happy-fortuned  king  passed  and  sat  upon  his  throne,  and  he 
caused  the  executioner  to  bring  the  youth  and  commanded, 
"  Smite  off  his  head."     The  eighteenth  vezir  came  forward 


438  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  two  things  are  indeed  in- 
cumbent upon  kings ;  the  first  is  to  have  pity  on  the  folk,  and 
the  second  is  to  have  mercy  in  the  time  of  wrath.  Long  will 
be  the  life  of  the  king  who  is  thus,  and  God  most  high  will 
protect  him  from  all  calamities.  It  is  even  as  said  our  lord 
the  Holy  Apostle  of  God,  '  Be  merciful  to  those  upon  the  earth 
that  the  dwellers  in  heaven  may  have  mercy  upon  you.'  And 
the  friends  of  a  king  who  is  generous  are  many,  and  he  tri- 
umphs over  his  enemies,  and  is  of  the  host  of  the  prophets 
and  the  saints.  And  there  is  a  story  of  Sultan  Mahmûd  suitable 
to  this ;  if  the  king  grant  leave,  I  will  relate  it."  The  king 
said,  "  Relate,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

Story  of  Sultan  Mahmûd 

"  One  day  while  Sultan  Mahmûd,  the  son  of  Sebuktekîn,  was 
hunting,  he  got  separated  from  his  soldiers,  and  he  saw  some- 
one going  along  in  a  trackless  place.  He  pushed  on  and  came 
up  to  that  man  and  saluted  him  and  said,  '  O  man,  whence 
art  thou  and  what  is  thy  origin  ? '  The  man  replied,  '  From 
the  kingdom ;  and  my  origin  my  mother  knows.'  Then  the 
sultan  saw  that  he  was  wrapped  up  in  black  clothes  and 
mounted  on  a  black  ass ;  and  the  king  asked,  '  Whither  goest 
thou  now  ?  '  That  man  replied,  '  I  go  to  Sultan  Mahmûd.' 
The  king  said,  '  What  is  thy  desire  of  the  sultan  ? '  The  man 
answered,  '  I  want  10,000  aspres  of  him ;  I  have  a  debt, 
perchance  he  may  give  it  me  and  I  shall  be  freed  from  my 
debt.'  The  sultan  said,  '  If  he  give  it  not,  how  wilt  thou  act  ?  ' 
The  man  replied,  '  If  he  will  not  give  10,000,  let  him  give 
1,000.'  Again  the  sultan  said,  '  If  he  will  not  give  even  1,000, 
what  wilt  thou  do?'  The  man  replied,  'If  he  will  not  give 
a  thousand  aspres,  let  him  give  a  hundred  aspres.'  The  sultan 
said,  '  If  he  will  not  give  even  that,  what  wilt  thou  do  ?  '  Then 
the  fellow  replied,  '  If  he  will  not  give  even  a  hundred  aspres, 
I  shall  say,  Bu  qara  eshegimin  durt  ayaghi  'avretinin  ferjine!^ 
and  shall  turn  and  go.'  The  king  wondered  at  this  man's  self 
and  words. 

"  After  a  little  he  met  his  soldiers  and  went  to  his  palace  and 
sat  upon  his  throne  and  thus  commanded  the  grand  chamber- 

^  I  have  thought  it  best  to  leave  the        ass  in   the  inimitable  simplicity  of  the 
uncivil  remark  of  the  owner  of  the  black        original. 


STORY   OF   SULTAN    MAHMUD 


439 


lain,  '  A  man  clad  in  black  and  mounted  on  a  black  ass  will 
come,  give  him  leave  to  enter.'  The  next  day,  early  in  the 
morning,  that  man  came,  and  the  grand  chamberlain  took  him 
and  brought  him  into  the  king's  presence.  When  he  saw  the 
king  he  knew  that  it  was  he  whom  he  had  seen  yesterday,  and 
straightway  he  prayed  for  the  king  and  asked  10,000  aspres. 
The  king  said,  '  May  God  give  it  thee.'  The  man  said,  '  Give 
1,000  aspres.'  Again  the  king  answered,  '  May  God  give  it 
thee.'  The  man  said,  '  Let  it  be  a  hundred  aspres.'  Again  the 
king  answered,  '  May  God  give  it  thee.'  Then  the  man  said, 
'  Be  thou  well ;  the  black  ass  is  tied  at  the  door.'  Thereupon 
a  courtier  *  said,  '  The  king  has  bestowed  nothing  on  thee ;  let 
the  black  ass  be.'  The  man  said,  '  If  he  has  not,  then  it  means, 
cshegimin  diirt  ayaghi  'avretinin  ferjine!  And  I  shall  be  off.' 
But  his  boldness  pleased  the  king  who  said,  '  This  poor  man's 
desire  is  but  to  be  delivered  from  distress  and  find  rest,  as  he 
got  no  boon  from  us  he  mounts  his  ass  and  goes.'  And  this 
remained  as  a  proverb,  '  The  black  ass  is  tied  at  the  door.' 
However,  he  bestowed  on  him  somewhat. 

"  And  this  story  resembles  it :  A  certain  khoja  was  going 
from  Hindustan  to  Bagdad,  and  while  on  the  road  he  thus 
thought,  '  When  I  enter  the  city  of  Bagdad  what  goods  should 
I  buy  ? '  Anyhow  he  entered  Bagdad,  and  there  was  there  a 
naked  abdal  °  who  had  plucked  out  his  beard  and  put  it  in  a 
piece  of  paper.  He  came  up  to  the  khoja  and  said,  '  I  have 
heard,  O  khoja,  that  thou  hast  come  to  buy  goods;  I  have 
something,  buy  it.'  And  he  gave  the  paper  into  the  khoja's 
hand.  The  khoja  took  it  and  opened  it  and  saw  in  it  the 
hairs  of  the  beard,  and  he  said,  '  What  shall  I  do  with  this  ? ' 
The  abdal  said,  '  Take  it,  and  give  the  money.'  The  khoja 
answered,  '  I  shall  not  give  money  for  this.'  The  abdal 
said,  '  Why  wilt  thou  not  give  money  ?  that  is  indeed  a  beard ; 
is  it  not  worth  a  hundred  aspres?  '  The  khoja  replied,  '  It  is 
not.'  The  abdal  said,  '  Let  it  be  ten  aspres ;  is  it  not  worth 
that? '  The  khoja  answered,  '  It  is  not.'  The  abdal  said,  '  Let 
it  be  five  aspres;  is  it  not  worth  that?'  The  khoja  said,  '  It 
is  not.'  Then  said  the  abdal,  '  A  beard  is  not  worth  five  aspres  ; 
why  then  dost  thou  carry  one  ?  shave  it  off  and  let  it  go.'    The 

*  In  Belletete  this  courtier  is  said  to        khoja  and  the  abdal,  for  which  the  Sul- 
be Firdausi  of  TOs,  and  he  is  made  to        tan  rewards  him  with  a  purse  of  gold, 
tell  Mahmûd  the  following  story  of  the  '  A  kind  of  religious  mendicant. 


440  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY  VEZIRS 

khoja  was  pleased  with  this  jest  of  the  abdal  and  gave  him  a 
hundred  aspres. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  these  stories  for  that  the  king 
may  know  that  it  is  needful  for  kings  to  raise  the  fallen  and 
bestow  favors  on  the  poor."  And  he  kissed  the  ground  and 
made  intercession  for  the  prince.  When  the  king  heard  these 
stories  from  the  vezir  he  sent  the  prince  to  the  prison  and  went 
himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  asked  for  news  about  the 
youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  likewise  such  an  one  of  my 
vezirs  made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him  to  the  prison." 
The  lady  said,  "  O  king,  think  not  thou  this  youth  would  main- 
tain thy  place  after  thee  and  observe  the  ordinances  of  kings. 
To  exercise  sovereignty  is  a  hard  work.  I  know  that  he  is  no 
true  man;  he  watches  his  opportunity,  and  one  day  he  will 
slay  thee  and  shed  blood,  and  then  they  will  kill  him  too. 
Moreover,  family  and  descent  are  needful  for  one;  he  who  is 
not  of  family  cannot  exercise  sovereignty.  And  one's  nature 
must  be  good.  There  are  men  of  family  and  descent  who  are 
yet  themselves  of  evil  nature ;  for  there  is  not  honey  in  every 
bee  nor  a  pearl  in  every  oyster.  Then  this  youth's  nature  is 
evil ;  he  has  not  the  qualities  of  a  king ;  his  work  would  ever 
be  wickedness  and  he  would  do  wrong  to  those  who  do  good. 
It  is  Hke  the  story  of  a  certain  merchant's  son;  mayhap  my 
king  has  not  heard  it."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear." 
Quoth  the  lady : 

Story  of  the  Merchant's  Son 

"  There  was  of  old  time  a  cobbler  in  the  city  of  Orfa.  One 
day  he  saw  a  dervish  passing,  the  seams  of  whose  shoes  had 
given  way.  The  cobbler  said,  '  Dervish,  come,  sit  down  till 
I  sew  up  the  seams  of  thy  shoes  and  patch  the  holes.'  The 
dervish  answered,  '  If  thou  hast  a  remedy,  apply  it  to  the  hole 
in  my  heart.'  The  cobbler  gave  him  his  right  hand  and  he 
came  and  sat  down ;  and  the  cobbler  gave  him  food  to  eat 
and  sewed  up  the  holes  in  his  shoes  and  said,  '  O  dervish,  I 
too  wish  to  journey;  what  counsel  dost  thou  give  me?'  The 
dervish  answered,  '  I  have  three  counsels ;  see  thou  keep  them : 


STORY   OF   THE   MERCHANT'S   SON  441 

my  first  is  this,  set  not  out  on  the  journey  till  thou  hast  found 
a  good  fellow-traveller ;  for  the  Apostle  of  God  hath  said, 
"  The  companion,  then  the  road."  My  second  is  this,  light  not 
in  a  waterless  place.  My  third  is  this,  enter  great  cities  when 
the  sun  is  rising.'  Then  he  went  his  way.  After  some  days 
the  cobbler  found  some  suitable  fellow-travellers  and  set  out. 
While  they  were  on  the  road,  one  day  in  the  afternoon  a  city 
appeared  before  them.  The  cobbler  youth  asked,  '  What  city 
is  this  city  ? '  The  companions  answered,  '  It  is  the  city  of 
Aleppo.'  The  youth  said,  '  To-day  it  is  near  evening ;  I  shall 
not  enter  the  city  to-day.' 

"  Howsoever  the  companions  urged  him,  it  was  no  use ;  so  at 
length  they  left  him  and  went  on.  The  youth  went  and  lighted 
on  the  bank  of  a  stream  and  remained  there  that  night.  Now 
there  were  tombs  near  the  youth ;  and  when  it  was  midnight 
he  saw  two  men  coming  from  the  city  carrying  something 
which  they  laid  in  the  graveyard,  and  then  they  went  away. 
Then  the  youth  went  up  to  that  grave,  and,  striking  a  light 
with  a  flint  and  steel,  lit  a  candle ;  he  saw  that  they  had  laid 
there  a  new  coffin,  and  that  from  the  four  sides  of  that  coffin 
streams  of  blood  were  running.  The  cobbler  youth  opened  the 
lid  of  the  coffin  and  looked  to  see  what  he  might  see;  there 
was  a  body  bathed  in  blood,  the  garments  were  of  massive  gold 
embroidery  and  on  the  finger  was  a  ring  in  which  a  stone  glit- 
tered. The  youth  coveted  the  ring  and  took  hold  of  it  that  he 
might  pull  it  off,  whereupon  the  body  raised  its  head  and  said, 
'  O  youth,  fearest  thou  not  God  that  thou  wouldst  take  my 
ring  ?  '  Then  the  youth  saw  that  it  was  a  girl  like  the  moon  of 
fourteen  nights,  a  torment  of  the  age,  like  a  lovely  rose ;  and 
he  said,  '  What  is  this  plight  ? '  The  girl  said,  *  Now  is  not 
the  time  for  questions ;  if  thou  be  able,  relieve  me ;  and  after- 
ward I  will  help  thine  affairs.' 

"  Straightway  the  youth  pulled  off  his  outer  robe  and  tore 
it  in  pieces  and  bound  up  the  girl's  wounds  and  laid  her  in  a 
place.  When  it  was  morning  he  took  her  on  his  back  and 
brought  her  into  the  city  and  placed  her  in  a  cell  in  a  certain 
place ;  and  to  all  who  asked  of  her  he  said,  *  She  is  my  sister ; 
passion  came  upon  me  and  I  brought  this  plight  upon  this  poor 
creature,  and  she  innocent.'  The  youth  tended  the  girl's 
wounds  and  in  the  course  of  a  month  or  two  she  became  well. 


442  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

One  day  she  went  to  the  bath,  and  when  she  returned  she  asked 
the  youth  for  inkhorn,  reed,  and  paper.  The  youth  brought 
them  and  placed  them  before  her.  The  girl  wrote  a  letter  and 
gave  it  into  the  youth's  hands ;  and  therein  was  written  thus : 
*  Thou  who  art  Khoja  Dibâb,  the  superintendent  of  the  bazaar, 
give  the  bearer  of  this  letter  a  hundred  sequins  and  send  him 
to  me;  and  disclose  nothing  to  my  father  of  my  health  or  my 
death ;  if  thou  do,  thou  shalt  reflect  well  upon  the  issue.'  She 
sealed  it  and  said,  '  Go,  give  this  letter  to  a  khoja  who  sits  in 
such  and  such  a  place  in  the  bazaar,  and  take  whatever  he  gives 
thee  and  bring  it.' 

"  The  youth  took  that  letter  and  went  to  the  bazaar  arid 
asked,  and  they  showed  him  to  him,  and  he  gave  the  letter  into 
his  hand.  When  the  khoja  opened  the  letter  and  read  it,  he 
kissed  it  and  raised  it  to  his  head,  and  straightway  drew  forth 
a  purse  of  gold  and  gave  it  to  the  youth.  The  youth  brought 
it  and  laid  it  before  the  girl.  The  girl  said,  '  Go,  take  a  house, 
and  buy  with  what  is  over  clothes  for  thee  and  me.'  The 
youth  went  and  took  a  house  and  bought  sumptuous  clothes 
and  brought  them  to  the  girl.  And  they  arose  and  went  to  that 
house  which  they  had  taken.  Again  she  wrote  a  letter  which 
she  gave  to  the  youth  who  took  it  to  the  khoja,  who  this  time 
gave  him  two  purses  which  he  took  to  the  girl.  She  said  to 
him,  '  Go,  my  youth,  and  buy  some  provisions  and  furniture 
for  the  house.'  And  the  youth  went  and  bought  them.  Then 
the  girl  got  another  purse  of  sequins,  and  she  said  to  the  youth, 
'  Go,  buy  thyself  horses  and  arms  and  male  slaves  and  female 
slaves,'  And  the  youth  went  and  bought  them,  and  he  brought 
them  and  gave  them  to  the  girl,  and  he  said,  '  Now  tell  me 
what  are  these  matters.'  The  girl  answered,  '  Now  is  not  the 
time,  by  and  bye.' 

"  Gradually  the  girl  built  palaces  there  and  increased  the 
number  of  her  male  slaves  and  female  slaves,  and  whenever 
she  gave  the  youth  a  letter  he  went  and  got  two  or  three  purses 
of  gold  from  that  khoja.  One  day  the  girl  gave  the  youth  a 
purse  of  gold  and  said,  '  In  the  bazaar  is  a  youth  they  call 
Ghazanfer  Agha ;  now  go  and  find  him,  and  ask  of  him  some 
precious  stuff,  and  he  will  show  it  thee,  and  whatever  price 
he  ask  for  it,  give  him  the  double  thereof,  and  take  and  bring 
it.'     So  the  youth  went  and  found  him,  and  sat  a  while  and 


STORY   OF   THE   MERCHANT'S   SON  443 

talked  with  him ;  and  whatever  the  price  of  it  was  he  gave  the 
double,  and  took  it ;  and  Ghazanfer  Agha  marvelled  at  this. 
The  youth  returned  and  gave  it  to  the  girl,  and  again  he  asked 
of  these  matters,  but  the  girl  said  that  this  too  was  not  the 
time.  And  she  took  out  a  purse  of  jewels  and  gave  it  to  the 
youth  and  said,  '  Take  these  jewels  and  go  to  Ghazanfer  Agha 
and  ask  him  to  put  a  value  on  them,  and  take  them  out  and 
lay  them  before  him,  and  see  what  he  will  say  to  thee ;  and 
when  putting  the  jewels  back  into  the  purse  present  him  with 
three  of  them.'  So  she  sent  him  off.  The  youth  said,  '  I  shall 
go ;  but  when  I  come  back  tell  me  the  things  that  have  befallen 
thee.'     He  went  and  did  as  the  girl  had  said. 

"  When  Ghazanfer  Agha  saw  these  gifts  he  said  to  the  youth, 
*  O  youth,  thou  hast  made  us  ashamed ;  pray  be  troubled  to 
come  once  to  our  house  and  honor  us  that  we  may  show  our 
affection.'  The  youth  replied,  '  What  though  it  be  so ;  to-mor- 
row I  shall  go.'  And  he  bade  him  farewell  and  he  came  and 
told  the  girl,  and  the  girl  said,  '  Go  to-morrow ;  but  when  thou 
enterest  his  house  look  not  to  this  side  nor  that  side,  but  look 
straight  before  thee.'  And  thus  did  she  warn  him.  When  it 
was  morning  the  youth  arose ;  and  Ghazanfer  Agha  looked 
and  saw  the  youth  coming  and  he  said,  '  Welcome ! '  and  took 
him  and  led  him  to  his  house.  And  the  youth  looked  at  noth- 
ing, but  passed  on  and  sat  down ;  and  Ghazanfer  Agha  treated 
and  entertained  that  youth  with  all  manner  of  delicious  foods, 
and  then  sent  him  away.  And  the  youth  came  and  told  the 
girl,  and  she  said,  '  Go  again  to-morrow  and  talk  with  him, 
and  when  thou  risest,  do  thou  too  invite  him;  and  be  not 
jealous.' 

"  And  the  youth  reflected  and  said  in  his  heart.  '  This  Gha- 
zanfer Agha  must  be  the  friend  of  this  girl ;  anyhow  we  shall 
see ;  whatever  God  does  he  does  well.'  In  the  morning  he 
went  and  invited  him,  and  then  came  to  the  girl  and  gave  her 
word  and  said,  '  Tell  me  and  let  me  hear  of  the  matters  of  that 
night.'  The  girl  answered,  '  Now  is  not  the  time ;  go  and  get 
these  things  which  are  needful.'  The  youth  went  and  got  them 
and  brought  them  and  gave  her  them  and  said,  *  Lo,  I  have 
brought  them ;  tell  me.'  The  girl  said,  '  Now  is  the  guest  com- 
ing, it  cannot  be ;  by  and  bye  I  will  tell  thee.'  When  Ghazanfer 
Agha  came  the  youth  gave  the  girl  word  and  she  said,  *  Go  and 


444  HISTORY   OF  THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

meet  him,  and  lead  him  and  bring  him  here.'  The  youth  said 
in  his  heart,  '  This  is  not  without  reason ;  but  wait,  we  shall 
see.'  And  he  led  him  respectfully,  and  he  entered  and  sat  down 
with  the  girl.  After  that,  came  foods  and  they  ate  and  drank 
and  made  merry  till  the  evening.  Then  the  girl  sent  word  and 
the  youth  came  in,  and  she  said,  '  Take  care,  be  it  not  that  thou 
lettest  Ghazanfer  Agha  leave  this  evening.'  And  the  youth  said, 
'  What  is  this  of  thee  that  thou  dost  not  dismiss  him  ?  '  The  girl 
answered,  '  I  will  tell  thee  afterward.'  The  youth  said  in  his 
heart,  '  I  shall  slay  the  two  of  you  this  night.'  And  he  went 
out.  When  it  was  night  Ghazanfer  Agha  asked  leave  to  go 
away,  but  the  youth  would  not  let  him,  and  Ghazanfer  Agha 
saw  that  it  was  not  to  be,  so  he  remained ;  and  they  brought 
out  a  clean  coverlet  and  mattress  and  made  a  bed  for  him. 
And  Ghazanfer  Agha  lay  down,  and  the  youth  lay  down,  but 
he  slept  not  that  he  might  watch  the  girl. 

"  When  it  was  midnight  the  girl  arose  and  the  youth  saw  her, 
but  he  made  no  sound,  and  the  girl  went  up  close  to  Ghazanfer 
Agha.  The  youth,  unable  to  endure  it  any  longer,  rose  from 
his  place  and  said  fiercely  to  the  girl,  '  What  seekest  thou 
there  ?  '  The  girl  saw  that  the  youth  spake  angrily  and  she 
took  him  by  the  hand  and  drew  him  to  a  place  apart  and  said, 

*  I  am  about  to  slay  this  Ghazanfer  Agha.'     The  youth  said, 

*  What  is  the  reason  of  it  ?  '  The  girl  replied,  '  The  reason  of 
it  is  this :  I  am  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  this  land,  and  this 
youth  was  a  butcher's  apprentice.  One  day,  when  going  to 
the  bath,  I  met  this  youth  selling  meat  upon  the  road ;  as  soon 
as  I  saw  him  I  fell  in  love  with  him,  and  the  bird,  my  heart,  was 
taken,  so  that  I  was  without  rest  and  could  not  remain  quiet. 
I  saw  there  was  no  help  for  it,  so  I  got  him  by  force  of  money, 
and  sometimes  I  went  to  his  house,  and  sometimes  I  had  him 
brought  in  disguise  to  my  palace.  One  night  I  went  in  dis- 
guise to  his  house,  and  I  saw  him  sitting  conversing  with  a 
gipsy,  and  I  got  angry  and  I  cursed  the  two  of  them.  This 
youth  was  wont  to  use  the  dagger,  and  he  gave  me  many 
wounds,  and  thought  me  dead  and  put  me  in  a  coffin  and  sent 
me  with  two  men  who  laid  me  in  that  tomb  thou  sawest. 
Praise  be  to  God !  my  time  was  not  yet ;  thou  didst  come  to 
me  like  Khizr :  now,  do  thou  kill  him.' 

"  The  youth  said,  '  I  shall  kill  him.     Wilt  thou  marry  me 


STORY   OF   THE   MERCHANTS   SON  445 

according  to  the  ordinance  of  God  ?  '  She  answered,  '  I  will 
not  marry  thee;  but  the  vezir  has  a  daughter  fairer  than  I,  her 
will  I  get  for  thee.'  Then  the  youth  smote  him  and  killed  him. 
The  girl  said,  '  In  the  morning  go  to  my  father  and  give  him 
good  news ;  and  go  to-night  and  bring  here  all  the  possessions 
of  this  youth.'  The  youth  said,  '  To-morrow  thy  father  will 
bring  them.'  When  it  was  morning  the  youth  went  and  gave 
the  good  news  to  the  king.  And  the  king  sent  slave-girls  who 
brought  the  girl  to  the  palace.  And  her  mother  was  glad  when 
she  saw  her  safe  and  sound. "^  And  they  confiscated  the  prop- 
erty of  Ghazanfer  Agha  and  bestowed  it  on  that  youth. 

"  But  what  would  the  youth  do  with  the  wealth  ?  his  desire 
was  the  girl.  The  king's  vezirs  said,  '  My  king,  it  were  right 
if  thou  give  the  girl  to  the  youth.'  The  king  answered,  *  It  is 
my  desire  too ;  for  when  my  daughter  disappeared  and  we 
sought  but  could  not  find  her,  I  made  a  promise,  saying,  that 
to  him  who  brought  good  news  of  my  daughter  I  should  give 
her ;  but  the  girl  does  not  wish  it.'  The  vezirs  said,  '  My  king, 
our  daughters  are  thine ;  make  this  youth  thy  client ;  which- 
ever girl  thou  pleasest,  give  her  to  him.'  The  king  said,  *  I 
shall  make  a  proposal ; '  and  he  went  and  spake  with  her 
mother.  And  the  girl's  mother  went  to  her  and  with  difficulty 
persuaded  her ;  and  then  sent  word  to  the  king.  That  hour 
they  performed  the  marriage  ceremony,  and  the  king  made  the 
youth  a  vezir ;  and  they  lived  for  a  long  time  in  joyance  and 
delight. 

"  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  thou  mayst  know 
that  thy  son  will  not  accept  counsel,  but  purposes  for  thy  life. 
Because  that  cobbler  youth  accepted  the  words  of  the  saints  he 
attained  to  fortune ;  and  that  butcher's  apprentice,  for  that  he 
was  a  fool,  wounded  his  benefactress,  the  king's  daughter ;  and 
if  the  girl  had  not  killed  him,  he  would  have  made  her  dis- 
graced before  the  world.  Do  thou  then,  O  king,  take  profit 
by  the  tale ;  beware,  spare  not  this  foolish  youth,  but  kill  him ; 
else  thou  shalt  be  repentant."  When  the  king  heard  this  story 
from  the  lady  he  said,  "  To-morrow  will  I  kill  him." 

When  it  was  morning  and  the  sun  had  appeared,  like  as 
appeared  the  kindness  shown  by  the  king's  daughter  to  the 

•  The  original   is  somewhat   more   ex-        tish  eyledi,  chun  muhrini  muhrlu  buldi, 
plicit   here:  Validesi    qizin    muhrini   tef-        qizin   iki  guzinden   updi. 


446  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

butcher's  apprentice,  and  the  world  was  illumined  with  light, 
the  king  passed  and  sat  upon  his  throne,  and  he  caused  the 
youth  to  be  brought  and  commanded  the  executioner,  "  Smite 
off  his  head."  The  nineteenth  vezir  came  forward  and  said, 
"  O  king,  beware,  hurry  not  in  this  matter,  look  to  the  thought 
of  the  hereafter  and  the  way  of  the  Law.  The  Apostle  (peace 
on  him ! )  saith,  '  God  most  high  maketh  wise  in  the  Truth 
him  to  whom  he  wisheth  to  do  good.'  According  to  this  sacred 
tradition,  what  is  befitting  the  king  is  this,  that  he  transgress 
not  the  bounds  of  God.  The  truth  is  this,  that  in  this  matter 
the  prince  is  sinless.  O  king,  when  can  one  obtain  a  son? 
Slay  not  thy  prince,  or  grief  for  thy  son  will  be  full  hard,  and 
in  the  end  thou  shalt  be  unable  to  endure  it.  There  is  a  story 
suitable  to  this ;  if  the  king  grant  leave  I  will  relate  it."  The 
king  said,  "  Relate  it,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

Hasan  of  Basra 

"  Hasan  of  Basra  ^  (the  mercy  of  God  on  him!)  was  in  his 
first  estate  a  seller  of  jewels.  One  day  he  rose  up  to  trade, 
and  came  before  a  king  and  transacted  business,  and  then  he 
transacted  business  with  the  vezir.  The  vezir  said,  '  To-day 
we  go  to  a  pageant  at  a  certain  place ;  wilt  thou  come  with  us  ?  ' 
Hasan  answered,  *  Yea,  I  shall  go.'  When  the  vezir  and  the 
king  had  mounted  their  steeds,  they  brought  a  horse  for  Hasan 
likewise,  and  they  all  went  out  of  the  gate  and  came  to  a 
plain.  Hasan  saw  that  in  the  middle  of  that  plain  was  a  white 
pavilion,  the  dome  of  which  reared  its  head  into  the  air.  Then 
they  went  up  close  to  that  pavilion  and  all  of  them  alighted. 
From  another  side  came  a  procession  of  people ;  Hasan  of 
Basra  saw  that  it  was  a  party  of  doctors  and  holy  men  who 
were  carrying  their  lecterns  and  copies  of  the  sacred  volume. 
They  came  and  entered  that  pavilion  and  recited  the  Koran 
with  sweet  voice ;  then  they  came  and  walked  three  times  round 
that  dome,  and  then  stood  at  the  door  and  said,  '  O  prince,  what 
can  we  ?  were  there  release  to  thy  sweet  soul  by  reading  of  the 
Koran,  we  would,  all  of  us,  cease  not  therefrom  day  or  night ; 
but  it  is  the  decree  of  that  almighty  King ;  there  is  no  avail  for 
his  command  save  acquiescence  and  patience.' 

'  Hasan   of   Basra   was   a   very   pious  and  learned  man.     He  died  in  no  (a.d. 
728). 


HASAN    OF   BASRA  447 

"  And  they  went  away.  After  them  came  white-bearded 
elders  and  devotees  reciting  chants,  and  they  walked  three 
times  round  that  dome,  and  then  stood  at  the  door  and  said, 
'  O  prince,  what  can  we  ?  were  there  release  to  thy  sweet  soul 
by  chant  and  prayer,  we  would,  all  of  us,  devote  ourselves  to 
chant  and  prayer;  but  what  profit?  it  is  the  decree  of  that 
almighty  King;  there  is  no  avail  therefor  save  resignation.' 
And  they  went  away.  After  them  came  many  moon-faced  dam- 
sels, in  the  hand  of  each  of  whom  was  a  golden  dish  filled  full 
of  all  manner  of  jewels,  and  they  walked  three  times  round 
that  dome,  and  then  stood  at  the  door  and  said,  '  O  prince,  what 
can  we?  were  there  release  to  thy  sweet  soul  by  the  giving  of 
riches,  we  would  give  all  these  jewels,  and  we  ourselves  would 
become  slaves;  but  what  avail?  it  is  the  decree  of  that  al- 
mighty King,  and  he  hath  no  need  of  such  things;  there  is 
no  help  for  his  decree  save  patience.' 

"  And  they  went  away.  After  them  came  an  innumerable 
army  which  surrounded  that  dome,  rank  on  rank,  and  they  said, 
'  O  prince,  were  there  release  to  thy  sweet  soul  by  battle,  night 
and  day  would  we,  all  of  us,  do  battle  in  thy  cause ;  but  what 
avail  ?  it  is  the  decree  of  that  almighty  King ;  there  is  no  help 
therefor  but  patience  and  resignation.'  And  they  went  away. 
After  them  came  the  king  the  father  of  that  prince,  and  the 
vezirs  and  the  nobles,  and  they  walked  three  times  round  that 
dome,  and  then  stood  at  the  door,  and  the  king  said,  '  O  light  of 
my  eyes,  darling  of  my  heart,  were  there  release  to  thy  sweet 
soul  to  be  found  by  science,  I  had  found  it  by  means  of  the 
learned ;  or  were  it  by  gifts  and  bounties,  I  had  assembled  all 
my  army  and  made  war  and  attained  it ;  but  what  avail  ? 
decree  is  God's.  He  is  in  want  of  naught ;  there  is  no  help  save 
patience  and  acquiescence  in  his  judgment.' 

'■  And  lie  wept  full  bitterly,  and  all  the  nobles  and  vezirs 
wept  likewise.  When  Hasan  of  Basra  saw  these  things  he 
asked  the  vezir,  '  What  plight  is  this  plight  ? '  The  vezir  said, 
'  O  Hasan,  our  king  had  a  son :  he  was  in  beauty  a  second 
Joseph ;  and  in  writing,  reading,  chivalry,  and  all  accomplish- 
ments he  had  no  rival ;  and  as  he  was  the  king's  only  child  he 
loved  him  very  much.  One  day  death  spared  him  not,  and  he 
passed  to  the  abiding  home.  After  the  wailing  and  dismay, 
as  there  was  no  help  save  patience  under  the  heavenly  decree, 


448  HISTORY   ÖF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 

they  brought  him  and  buried  him  in  this  dome.  And  once 
every  year  they  come  and  thus  visit  the  tomb.'  When  Hasan 
of  Basra  heard  these  words  from  the  vezir  and  saw  these 
things  with  his  eyes,  wealth  and  riches  went  forth  from  his 
eye  and  heart ;  and  he  abandoned  the  whole  of  them  and  turned 
dervish  and  donned  the  khirqa ;  ®  and  now,  when  his  name  is 
mentioned,  they  add,  '  The  mercy  of  God  on  him ! ' 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  grief  for  children  is  full  bitter.  As  yet  thou  hast  not 
felt  it,  and  may  God  most  high  not  show  it  thee  thus  through 
him.  O  king,  slay  not  the  prince,  else  afterward  thou  shalt  be  re- 
pentant and  shalt  sigh  and  groan  until  thou  die."  And  he  made 
intercession  for  the  prince  for  that  day.  When  the  king  heard 
this  story  from  the  vezir  compassion  came  into  his  heart,  and 
he  sent  the  youth  to  the  prison  and  went  himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  again  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and 
she  sat  with  the  king.  After  the  repast  the  lady  asked  for  news 
of  the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  likewise  such  an  one  of 
my  vezirs  made  intercession  for  him,  and  I  have  sent  him  again 
to  the  prison."  The  lady  said,  "  O  king,  why  dost  thou  leave 
my  counsel  and  act  according  to  thine  own  understanding? 
Hast  not  thou  heard  these  words  they  have  said  concerning  the 
heedless :  '  Whoso  is  presumptuous  through  reason  is  abased.' 
And  the  sages  have  said  that  eight  things  bring  disgrace  upon 
a  man :  the  first  is  going  to  dine  at  a  place  without  invitation, 
the  second  is  interfering  between  another  and  his  wife,  the 
third  is  giving  ear  to  everyone's  words,  the  fourth  is  slighting 
the  king,  the  fifth  is  setting  one's  self  above  a  great  man,  the 
sixth  is  speaking  to  those  who  listen  not  to  one's  words,  the 
seventh  is  begging  a  favor  of  an  avaricious  and  indifferent 
person,  and  the  eighth  is  going  to  the  enemies'  gate. 

"  Now,  O  king,  those  vezirs  interfere  between  thee  and  me. 
Beware,  act  not  according  to  their  words.  They  have  said  that 
he  who  acts  according  to  a  stranger's  word  will  divorce  his 
wife.  Their  words  are  many;  and  they  are  forty  vezirs,  and 
each  one  of  them  for  this  long  time  is  planning  wiles.  Mayhap 
my  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  the  old  gardener  and  his 
son."    The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."    Quoth  the  lady : 

*  The  dervish's  cloak. 


THE   GARDENER   AND   HIS   SON  449 

The  Gardener  and  His  Son 

"  In  the  by-gone  time  an  old  gardener  had  mounted  his  son 
upon  an  ass  and  was  proceeding  to  the  garden,  himself  on 
foot.  They  met  some  men  who  said,  '  See  this  old  pederast, 
how  he  has  mounted  the  boy  upon  the  ass ;  and  is  himself  run- 
ning alongside.'  Whenever  the  old  man  heard  this  he  made 
the  boy  alight  and  mounted  himself.  Again  they  met  some 
other  folk,  these  likewise  said,  '  Look  at  this  heartless  old  man, 
he  rides  the  ass  himself  and  makes  the  poor  child  go  on  foot.' 
Whenever  the  old  man  heard  this  he  took  his  son  up  in  front 
of  him.  Then  some  people  saw  them  and  said,  *  See  this  old 
pederast,  how  he  has  taken  the  boy  up  in  front  of  him.'  The 
old  man  heard  this,  and  he  put  his  son  up  behind  him.  Again 
certain  folks  saw  them  and  said,  '  See  this  old  catamite,  how 
he  has  taken  the  boy  up  behind  him.'  The  old  man  knew  not 
what  to  do,  so  he  put  his  son  down  and  alighted  himself  and 
drove  the  ass  before  them.  The  garden  was  near,  and  both 
of  them  were  on  foot,  and  they  reached  the  garden  before 
meeting  with  any  others. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  that  thou  mayst  know 
that  no  one  in  the  world  can  escape  the  tongue  of  the  folk. 
Each  one  says  a  different  thing.  It  is  even  as  when  a  boil 
came  out  on  the  foot  of  a  certain  king  who  showed  it  to  some- 
one and  said,  *  Come,  look  at  this  boil ;  is  it  ripe  or  unripe  ?  ' 
He  looked  and  said,  '  It  is  ripe.'  Then  he  showed  it  to  an- 
other person,  and  he  said,  '  It  is  unripe.'  Then  the  king  said, 
*  We  cannot  get  sure  information  concerning  even  one  foot.' 
Do  thou  too,  O  king,  go  by  no  one's  word,  lose  not  the  oppor- 
tunity ;  no  good  will  come  to  thee  from  this  youth."  When 
the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  lady  he  said,  "  To-morrow 
will  I  kill  him." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  came  and  sat  upon  his  throne, 
and  he  caused  the  youth  to  be  brought  and  ordered  the  exe- 
cutioner, "  Smite  off  his  head."  The  twentieth  vezir  came 
forward  and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  I  will  speak  a  good 
word  to  thee :  all  these  vezirs  who  have  spoken  these  many 
words  are  well-wishers  to  thee.  The  holy  Apostle  of  God 
hath  said,  '  Whoso  hath  believed  in  God  and  the  last  day ; 
when  he  witnesseth  to  aught,  let  him  speak  with  good  or  let 
29 


45° 


HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 


him  be  silent.'  Now,  what  is  best  for  thee  in  this  thy  affair  is 
this,  as  all  thy  vezirs  say,  '  Slay  not  the  prince,'  I  too  say,  have 
patience,  else  the  end  of  this  will  be  care  and  sorrow.  Mayhap 
the  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  a  certain  king."  The  king 
said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

The  Dervish's  Advice 

"  Of  old  time  there  was  a  great  king.  One  day,  when  re- 
turning from  the  chase,  he  saw  a  dervish  sitting  by  the  way, 
crying,  '  I  have  a  piece  of  advice ;  to  him  who  will  give  me 
I, GOO  sequins  I  will  tell  it.'  When  the  king  heard  these 
words  of  the  dervish  he  drew  in  his  horse's  head  and  halted, 
and  he  said  to  the  dervish,  '  What  is  thy  counsel  ?  '  The  der- 
vish replied,  '  Bring  the  sequins  and  give  me  them  that  I  may 
tell  my  counsel.'  The  king  ordered  that  they  count  i,ooo 
sequins  into  the  dervish's  lap.  The  dervish  said,  '  O  king, 
my  advice  to  thee  is  this,  whenever  thou  art  about  to  do  a 
deed,  consider  the  end  of  that  deed,  and  then  act.'  The  nobles 
who  were  present  laughed  together  at  these  words  and  said, 
'  Anyone  knows  that.'  But  the  king  rewarded  that  poor  man. 
He  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  words  of  the  dervish  and 
commanded  that  they  wrote  them  on  the  palace  gate  and  other 
places. 

"  Now  that  king  had  an  enemy,  a  great  king ;  and  this  hos- 
tile king  was  ever  watching  his  opportunity ;  but  he  could  find 
no  way  save  this,  he  said  in  himself,  '  Let  me  go  and  promise 
the  king's  barber  some  worldly  good  and  give  him  a  poisoned 
lancet ;  some  day  when  the  king  is  sick  he  can  bleed  him  with 
that  lancet.'  So  he  disguised  himself,  and  went  and  gave  the 
barber  a  poisoned  lancet  and  10,000  sequins.  And  the  barber 
was  covetous  and  undertook  to  bleed  the  king  with  that  lancet 
what  time  it  should  be  needful.  One  day  the  king  was  sick, 
and  he  sent  word  to  the  barber  to  come  and  bleed  him.  There- 
upon the  barber  took  that  poisoned  lancet  with  him  and  went. 
The  attendants  prepared  the  basin,  and  the  barber  saw  written 
on  the  rim  of  the  basin,  '  Whenever  thou  art  about  to  perform 
a  deed,  think  on  the  end  thereof.' 

"  When  the  barber  saw  this  he  said  in  himself,  '  I  am  now 
about  to  bleed  the  king  with  this  lancet  and  doubtless  he  will 
perish,  then  they  will  not  leave  me  alive,  but  will  inevitably 


THE    DERVISH'S   ADVICE 


45  T 


kill  me ;  after  I  am  dead  what  use  will  these  sequins  be  to  me  ? ' 
And  he  took  up  that  lancet  and  put  it  in  its  place  and  drew  out 
another  lancet  that  he  might  bleed  the  king.  When  he  took 
his  arm  a  second  time,  the  king  said,  '  Why  didst  thou  not 
bleed  me  with  the  first  lancet  ? '  The  barber  answered,  '  O 
king,  there  was  some  dust  on  its  point.'  Then  the  king  said, 
'  I  saw  it,  it  is  not  the  treasury  lancet ;  there  is  some  secret  here, 
quick,  tell  it,  else  I  will  slay  thee.'  When  the  barber  saw  this 
importunity,  he  related  the  story  from  beginning  to  end  and 
how  he  had  seen  the  writing  on  the  basin  and  changed  his  in- 
tention. The  king  put  a  robe  of  honor  on  the  barber  and  let 
him  keep  the  sequins  which  his  enemy  had  given  him.  And 
the  king  said,  '  The  dervish's  counsel  is  worth  not  i,ooo  sequins 
but  100,000  sequins.' 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  it  is  as  when  the  dervish  said,  '  Whatsoever  deed 
thou  doest,  consider  the  end  thereof,  then  act.'  If  thou  slay 
the  prince,  at  last  thou  shalt  be  repentant.  The  rest  the  king 
knows."  And  he  made  intercession  for  the  prince.  When  the 
king  heard  these  words  from  the  vezir  he  sent  the  prince  to  the 
prison  and  himself  mounted  for  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  again  asked  for  news  of 
the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  such  an  one  of  my  vezirs 
made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him  to  the  prison."  The 
lady  said,  "  O  king,  it  is  related  of  the  Caliph  Ma'mûn  °  that 
he  said,  '  Four  things  are  hurtful  to  kings ;  the  first  is  the 
nobles  being  negligent,  the  second  is  the  ministers  being  en- 
vious, the  third  is  the  mean  being  bold,  and  the  fourth  is  the 
vezirs  beinp-  treacherous.'  And  the  Moorish  sages  say,  '  In 
nobles  there  is  no  friendship,  in  liars  there  is  no  fidelity,  in  the 
envious  there  is  no  peace,  in  the  indifferent  there  is  no  gener- 
osity, and  in  the  evil-natured  there  is  no  greatness.'  O  king, 
these  thy  vezirs  are,  like  thy  traitor  son,  liars  and  evil-natured. 
Thou  believest  the  words  of  these.  The  story  of  thee  and  this 
youth  altogether  resembles  the  story  of  those  Turkman  chil- 
dren." The  king  said,  "  Tell  that  story,  let  us  hear  it."  Quoth 
the  lady: 

"  El-Ma'mBn,    the    son    of    Hârün-er-Reslud,    was    proclaimed    caliph    in    19S 
(a.d.  813);  he  died  in  21S  (a.d.  833). 


452  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY   VEZIRS 


The  Turkman  Children 

"  Certain  Turkmans  from  an  encampment  went  one  day  into 
a  city.  When  they  were  returning  from  the  city  to  the  en- 
campment they  were  an  hungered,  and  when  they  were  come 
near  they  ate  some  bread  and  onions  at  a  spring-head.  The 
juice  of  the  onions  went  into  the  Turkmans'  eyes,  and  the  tears 
came  forth  from  their  eyes.  Now  the  children  of  the  Turk- 
mans had  gone  out  to  meet  them,  and  they  saw  that  the  tears 
were  streaming  from  their  fathers'  eyes  and  they  thought  that 
some  one  of  them  had  died  in  the  city.  So  without  asking  and 
without  knowing,  they  ran  back  and  came  to  the  encampment 
and  said  to  their  mothers,  '  One  of  ours  is  dead  in  the  city,  our 
fathers  are  coming  weeping.'  All  the  women  and  children  of 
that  encampment  came  forth  to  meet  them,  weeping  together. 
The  Turkmans  who  were  coming  from  the  city  thought  that 
one  of  theirs  had  died  in  the  encampment ;  so  were  they  with- 
out knowledge  one  of  the  other,  and  they  raised  a  weeping  and 
crying  together  such  that  it  cannot  be  described. 

"  At  length  the  elders  of  the  camp  stood  up  in  the  midst  and 
said,  '  May  all  ye  remain  whole ;  the  command  is  God's,  there  is 
none  other  help  than  patience.'  And  they  questioned  them. 
The  Turkmans  who  were  coming  from  the  city  asked,  '  Who  is 
dead  in  the  encampment  ?  '  The  others  said,  '  No  one  is  dead 
in  the  encampment ;  who  has  died  in  the  city  ?  '  Those  com- 
ing from  the  city  answered, '  No  one  has  died  in  the  city.'  They 
said,  '  Then  for  whom  are  we  wailing  and  lamenting  ?  '  At 
length  they  perceived  that  all  this  tumult  arose  from  their  thus 
trusting  the  words  of  children. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  confusion  like  to  that  is  brought  about  by  youths. 
What  I  know  is  this,  if  thou  slay  not  the  youth  he  will  slay 
thee."  When  the  king  heard  these  words  from  the  lady  he 
said,  "  To-morrow  will  I  kill  him." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  came  and  sat  upon  his  throne, 
and  he  caused  the  youth  to  be  brought  and  ordered  the  exe- 
cutioner, "  Smite  oflf  his  head."  The  twenty-first  vezir  came 
forward  and  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  yesterday,  when  read- 
ing in  a  book,  I  saw  that  they  had  written  that  there  was  a 
great  king  in  the  land  of  Hindustan,  and  in  his  time  there  was 


A   QUEEN'S   DECEIT  453 

a  work  on  wisdom,  and  they  laded  three  camels  with  it  and 
brought  it  to  him.  One  day  the  king  said  to  the  sages, 
'  Abridge  this  book  for  me,  that  I  may  study  it.'  Then  all  the 
sages  of  Hind  came  together  and  collected  the  necessary  words 
from  that  work  and  made  a  book.  When  the  king  read  it  he 
was  pleased.  And  the  words  that  they  wrote  were  these :  '  O 
king,  be  not  presumptuous,  being  deceived  by  the  world ;  for 
the  world  showeth  itself  like  a  fair  woman  and  fondleth  men 
in  its  bosom ;  and  when  they  are  asleep  and  heedless,  of  a 
sudden  it  woundeth  and  slayeth  them.  Knowing  of  a  surety 
that  it  is  thus,  have  care  if  it  offer  itself  to  thee,  that  thou  keep 
thyself  from  it,  so  that  thou  be  prosperous.  And  expend  what 
thou  gainest  of  wealth  in  the  way  of  God  most  high,  and 
guard  against  iniquity,  and  show  forth  thy  name  through  gen- 
erosity, and  abandon  avarice. 

"  '  O  king,  the  light  of  the  world  is  darkness,  and  its  newness 
is  oldness,  and  its  being  is  non-being.  O  king,  strive  that  thou 
save  thyself  from  it ;  and  incline  not  to  the  amassing  of  unlaw- 
ful wealth,  for  it  will  pass  from  thy  hand  and  be  a  woe  to  thee. 
Strive  to  collect  wealth  lawfully,  and  expend  it  on  good  works, 
and  show  thyself  just  among  the  folk  to  the  utmost  of  thy 
power,  that  all  the  people  of  the  world  may  love  thee,  and  that 
thou  be  secured  against  the  punishment  of  God  most  high. 
And  guard  thy  faith  for  the  hereafter.  And  love  not  women 
and  tell  not  them  thy  secrets.  O  king,  be  not  deceived  by  wom- 
ankind ;  for  in  body  are  they  weak,  but  in  guile  are  they  strong.' 
Now,  O  king,  these  counsels  are  exceeding  good  counsels,  and 
it  behooves  the  king  to  keep  them ;  and  their  saying  is  true  that 
women  are  weak  in  body  but  strong  in  guile.  Mayhap  the 
king  has  not  heard  what  befell  a  certain  king  with  a  woman." 
The  king  said,  "  Relate  it,  let  us  hear."     Quoth  the  vezir : 

A  Queen's  Deceit 

"  There  was  in  the  palace  of  the  world  a  great  king,  and  he 
had  a  beautiful  wife,  such  that  many  a  soul  dangled  in  the 
tresses  on  her  cheek.  That  lady  had  a  secret  affair  with  a 
youth,  and  she  used  to  hide  the  youth  in  a  chest  in  the  palace. 
One  day  that  youth  said  to  the  lady,  '  If  the  kin'^  were  aware 
of  this  our  work,  he  would  slay  the  two  of  us.'  The  lady  said, 
'  Leave  that  thought,  I  can  do  so  that  I  shall  hide  thee  in  the 


454  HISTORY    OF    THE    FORTY    VEZIRS 

chest  and  say  to  the  king,  "  Lo,  my  lover  is  lying  in  this  chest ;  " 
and  then,  when  the  king  is  about  to  kill  thee,  I  shall  make  him 
repentant  by  one  word.'  While  the  youth  and  the  lady  were 
saying  these  words,  the  king  came,  and  the  lady  straightway 
put  the  youth  into  the  chest  and  locked  it.  The  king  said, '  Why 
lockest  thou  that  chest  thus  hastily  ?  What  is  in  the  chest  ?  ' 
The  lady  answered,  '  By  God,  it  is  my  lover ;  I  saw  thee  com- 
ing and  I  put  him  into  the  chest  and  locked  it.'  Then  was  the 
king  wroth,  and  he  bared  his  sword  and  thought  to  slay  him 
v/ho  was  in  the  chest,  when  the  lady  said,  '  O  king,  art  thou 
mad,  where  is  gone  thine  understanding?  Am  I  mad  that  I 
should  advance  a  strange  man  to  thy  couch  and  then  say  to 
thee,  "  Lo,  he  is  in  the  chest?"  In  truth,  I  wondered  if  thou 
were  sincere  in  thy  trust  of  me,  and  I  tried  thee,  and  now  I 
know  that  thou  thinkest  evil  concerning  me.'  And  she  ceased 
and  sat  in  a  corner. 

"  Then  did  the  king  repent  him  of  what  he  had  done ;  and 
he  begged  and  besought  of  his  wife,  saying,  '  Forgive  me.' 
And  he  gave  her  many  things,  and  craved  pardon  for  his  fault. 
When  the  king  had  gone  out  from  the  harem  into  the  palace  the 
lady  took  that  youth  forth  of  the  chest  and  said,  '  Didst  thou 
see  what  a  trick  I  played  the  king?  '  And  they  gave  themselves 
up  to  mirth  and  merriment. 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  guile  and  trickery  such  as  this  abound  in  women.  O 
king,  beware,  slay  not  the  prince  on  the  woman's  word,  else 
afterward  thou  shalt  be  repentant,  and  too  late  repentance  prof- 
its not."  And  he  made  intercession  for  the  prince  for  that  day. 
When  the  king  heard  this  story  from  the  vezir  he  sent  the 
prince  to  the  prison  and  himself  mounted  for  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  again  began  to  speak  about 
the  youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day  too  such  an  one  of  my 
vezirs  made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him  to  the  prison." 
The  lady  said,  "  O  king,  this  youth  is  ignoble.  It  is  even  as 
when  God  most  high  told  Noah  (peace  on  him!)  of  the  im- 
purity of  his  son :  said  God  most  high,  *  He  is  not  of  thy  fam- 
ily ;  verily,  it  is  a  work  that  is  not  right.'  ^*^    Then  it  is  known 

10  Koran,  xi.  48. 


THE   ABDAL   AND   THE   KING 


455 


that  if  a  person  follow  not  the  way  of  his  father,  and  be  not 
endowed  with  the  nature  of  his  father,  he  cannot  be  called  a 
lawful  son.  Therefore,  when  the  wise  see  a  fault  in  others 
they  hinder  and  cover  it,  and  if  they  see  that  fault  in  them- 
selves they  strive  to  banish  it  far  from  them.  There  is  no  help 
for  the  ignoble  that  he  should  follow  the  path  of  the  noble. 
Mayhap  the  king  has  not  heard  the  story  of  a  certain  abdal  and 
a  king."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us  hear."  Quoth  the 
lady: 

The  Abdal  and  the  King 

"  There  was  of  old  time  a  great  king,  and  there  was  by  him 
an  abdal.  One  day  the  king  mounted  for  the  chase,  and  the 
abdal  said,  '  O  king,  I  am  able  for  soldiering  and  hunting ; 
give  me  too  horse  and  gear  and  bird,  that  I  may  go  forth  with 
thee  to  ride  about  and  hunt.'  So  the  king  gave  the  abdal  a 
horse  and  gear,  and  gave  him  a  falcon  on  his  wrist,  and  took 
him  along  with  him  to  the  chase,  and  they  went  off.  While 
they  were  riding,  the  king  saw  a  bird  go  into  a  bush,  and  he 
said  to  the  abdal,  '  Go,  cast  the  falcon  at  the  bird.'  And  the 
king  stood  to  look  on.  The  abdal  went  up  close  to  the  bush 
with  the  falcon,  and  a  man  stirred  the  bush,  and  the  bird  came 
out  and  flew  off.  The  king  said  to  the  abdal,  *  The  bird  is 
away,  throw  off  the  falcon.'  And  the  abdal  threw  off  the  falcon 
from  his  wrist  without  slipping  the  leash,  and  he  swung  it 
round  and  round  his  head.  The  king  shouted,  '  Out  on  thee ! 
throw  off  the  falcon ! '  The  abdal  said,  '  O  king,  I  have  thrown 
it  off,  what  am  I  to  do  ? '  But  he  left  not  to  swing  the  falcon 
round  his  head.  The  king  shouted,  '  Out  on  thee !  let  the 
falcon  go ! '  And  the  abdal  let  go  the  leash ;  but  the  falcon's 
eyes  were  darkened  from  its  having  been  turned  round,  and  it 
could  not  fly,  and  fell  to  the  ground.  And  the  king  was  angry 
and  ill-pleased.  Then  the  abdal  said,  '  O  king,  wherefore  art 
thou  angry  ?  thou  saidest,  "  Throw  off  the  falcon,"  and  I  threw  it 
off ;  then  thou  saidest,  "  Let  it  go,"  and  I  let  it  go ;  this  falcon 
knows  not  how  to  fly :  what  fault  is  mine?'  These  words  of  the 
abdal  were  pleasant  to  the  king  and  he  fainted  from  laughing ; 
and  he  perceived  how  no  good  comes  from  anything  ignoble.^ 

1  The  point  of  this  storv  is  lost  in  the  con,"   meaning,   let   it   fly  at   the   bird; 

translation.     To  let  fly  a  falcon  at  game,  but  the  abdal  understands  him  literally, 

is,   in   Turkish,    to    swing   a   falcon;  the  and  swings  the  falcon  round  his  head, 
king  says  to  the  abdal,      Swing  the  fal- 


456  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY  VEZIRS 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  no  good  comes  from  the  ignoble  man  who  follows 
not  the  path  of  his  father  and  mother.  Beware,  O  king,  be  not 
negligent  in  the  affair  of  this  youth,  or  in  the  end  some  hurt 
will  befall  thee  from  him ;  the  rest  thou  knowest."  When  the 
king  heard  this  story  from  the  lady  he  said,  *'  On  the  morrow 
will  I  kill  the  youth." 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  came  and  sat  upon  his  throne, 
and  he  caused  the  youth  to  be  brought  and  commanded  the 
executioner,  "  Smite  ofî  his  head." 

Thus  did  the  king,  day  after  day,  order  the  execution  of  his 
innocent  son,  being  temporarily  diverted  from  committing  this 
crime  by  the  stories  and  wise  advice  of  the  forty  vezirs,  only 
to  be  urged  again  at  night  to  commit  the  crime  by  the  false 
accusations  of  his  baffled  and  revengeful  wife. 

The  story  of  the  fortieth  vezir  demonstrated  how  the  crafty 
wife  of  a  tailor  played  him  false  and  then  deceived  him  with  a 
lying  and  plausible  version  of  what  had  happened.  After  relat- 
ing this  story  the  fortieth  vezir  said : 

"  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  tricks  like  to  these  and  all  manner  of  craftiness 
abound  in  women.  Beware,  slay  not  the  prince  on  the  woman's 
word,  or  afterward  thou  shalt  be  repentant."  And  he  kissed 
the  ground,  and  made  intercession  for  the  prince  for  that  day. 
And  the  king  granted  it,  and  sent  the  youth  to  the  prison,  and 
went  himself  to  the  chase. 

When  it  was  evening  the  king  returned  from  the  chase  and 
came  to  the  palace,  and  the  lady  rose  to  greet  him,  and  they 
sat  down.  After  the  repast  the  lady  asked  for  news  of  the 
youth.  The  king  said,  "  To-day,  too,  such  an  one  of  my  vezirs 
made  intercession  for  him  and  I  sent  him  to  the  prison."  The 
lady  said,  "  O  king,  be  it  known  that  not  one  of  those  vezirs 
is  thy  friend ;  God  knows  what  pact  they  have  with  the  youth. 
Mayhap  the  king  has  not  heard  what  befel  between  the  Sultan 
of  Egypt  and  his  vezirs."  The  king  said,  "  Tell  on,  let  us 
hear."     Quoth  the  lady: 

The  Sultan  and  His  Traitorous  Son 

"  There  was  of  old  time  in  the  city  of  Cairo  a  great  sultan, 
and  he  had  a  youthful  son.    And  that  youth  made  a  pact  with 


THE   SULTAN   AND   HIS   TRAITOROUS   SON 


457 


the  vezirs,  saying,  '  If  ye  make  me  sultan,  I  will  give  you  leave 
to  do  whatever  ye  may  please.'  When  they  had  agreed  to  this, 
he  sowed  enmity  between  the  king  and  the  vezirs  and  nobles ; 
and  each  of  them  rose  in  revolt  in  a  different  quarter,  and  they 
took  the  youth  for  their  chief,  and  waged  war  and  did  battle 
with  the  king.  The  king  could  not  overcome  them,  and  at 
length  they  made  the  youth  king.  They  began  to  feast  with 
the  new  king  every  day,  and  to  accomplish  their  desires.  And 
the  king's  father  saw  that  the  purpose  of  the  vezirs  and  the 
youth  was  evil,  and  he  called  a  confidant,  and  one  night  they 
fled  in  disguise  and  entered  a  cave;  and  for  seven  days  and 
seven  nights  the  king  went  not  forth  from  that  cave.  The  new 
king  heard  of  his  father  having  fled,  and  he  and  the  vezirs 
began  to  seek  him  and  to  send  out  criers,  who  proclaimed, 
*  Whoso  seizes  my  father  and  brings  him  to  me,  him  will  I 
honor.'  And  the  old  king  and  his  courtier  went  forth  from 
the  cave  and  came  to  a  village,  and  were  guests  of  an  old 
woman  in  that  village ;  and  that  old  woman  sowed  seed.  And 
she  bestirred  herself  to  entertain  them,  and  brought  them  a 
mat,  and  they  sat  down.  The  king  was  hungry,  and  he  pulled 
out  a  sequin  and  gave  it  to  the  old  woman,  and  said,  '  Mother, 
go,  fetch  us  food  that  we  may  eat.'  The  woman  said,  '  What 
will  ye  do  with  a  sequin's  worth  of  food  ?  '  The  king  replied, 
'  No  harm,  fetch  it.'  And  the  woman  went  and  brought  all 
manner  of  delicacies  and  set  them  before  the  king.  And  they 
sat  down  and  ate.  After  the  repast  they  began  to  talk  with 
the  woman  ;  and  the  woman  said,  '  What  youths  be  ye  ?  '  The 
king  said,  '  We  are  of  the  servants  of  the  fugitive  king ;  we 
are  seeking  our  master.'  The  woman  said,  '  I  fear  that  ye  too 
are  followers  of  that  unworthy  youth,  and  would  seize  the 
king  and  take  him.'  The  king  asked,  *  Does  that  unworthy 
youth  seek  his  father  ? '  The  woman  replied,  *  Does  he  seek 
him?  What  means  that?  Those  traitor  vezirs  and  nobles 
every  day  cause  criers  to  proclaim,  "  To  him  who  seizes  and 
brings  that  fugitive  sultan  we  will  give  the  lordship  of  what- 
ever place  he  may  wish ;  but  of  him  who  conceals  him,  or  in 
whose  house  he  is  found,  are  the  head  and  family  gone."  ' 

"  When  the  king  heard  these  words  from  the  woman  his 
soul  was  troubled,  and  he  said  to  her,  '  And  are  the  nobles  also 
submissive  to  the  youth  ? '     The  woman  answered,  '  He  has 


458  HISTÜPvY    OF    THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

deposed  many  nobles,  and  appointed  other  nobles ;  these  new 
nobles  are  all  of  them  submissive  to  him.'  The  king  said,  '  Is 
there  any  of  those  old  nobles  whom  thou  knowest  ?  '  The 
woman  replied,  '  There  is  a  vezir  who  was  deposed  by  the  fugi- 
tive sultan ;  I  go  about  his  house  on  business — I  know  him.' 
As  soon  as  the  king  heard  this  he  turned  and  said  to  his  con- 
fidant, '  What  sayest  thou,  shall  I  tell  this  woman  that  I  am 
the  sultan  ?  '  The  confidant  repUed,  '  Command  is  the  king's.' 
The  sultan  turned  and  said  to  the  woman,  '  O  mother,  I  have 
a  secret ;  if  I  tell  it  thee,  canst  thou  keep  it?  '  The  woman  said, 
'  I  will  give  my  head,  but  I  will  not  give  your  secret.'  The  king 
made  the  woman  swear,  and  then  said,  '  O  mother,  dost  thou 
know  me  who  I  am  ? '  She  answered,  '  Nay.'  Then  the  king 
said,  '  Lo,  I  am  the  fugitive  sultan ;  be  it  not  that  this  word  es- 
cape thy  mouth.'  When  the  woman  heard  this  the  blood  went 
from  her  face,  and  she  fell  at  the  king's  feet.  The  king  said, 
'  Hast  thou  son  or  daughter  ? '  She  replied,  '  I  have  a  son.' 
The  king  said,  *  If  God  most  high  seat  me  on  my  throne,  I  will 
give  thy  son  whatever  lordship  he  please.'  The  woman  bowed 
down  and  fell  at  the  king's  feet.  Then  the  king  said  to  her, 
'  Go  now  to  the  house  of  that  vezir,  and  call  him  to  a  private 
place  and  salute  him  from  me,  and  say,  "  The  king  is  now 
seated  in  my  house  and  wants  thee,  be  it  not  that  thou  flinchest 
and  comest  not."  ' 

"  When  it  was  evening  the  woman  went  to  the  vezir's  house, 
and  took  the  vezir  to  a  private  place,  and  gave  him  the  king's 
greeting,  and  told  him  all  and  how  that  he  was  sitting  in  her 
house.  The  vezir  was  glad,  and  he  said,  '  Do  thou  now  be  off, 
I  too  will  come  now ; '  and  he  sent  her  away.  The  woman 
came  and  told  these  things  to  the  king.  After  a  little  he  saw 
the  vezir  in  the  dress  of  an  Arab,  and  he  came  and  fell  at  the 
king's  feet  and  mourned  and  wept.  The  king  said,  '  O  vezir, 
I  wronged  thee  and  took  thy  wealth  and  deposed  thee;  ah! 
the  past  is  past,  the  gone  is  gone.  Befriend  me  as  much  as  in 
thee  lies,  and  if  God  most  high  raise  me  to  my  throne,  I  know 
the  honor  I  will  do  thee.'  The  vezir  said,  '  O  king,  if  thou 
tookest  my  wealth,  it  was  thine  own  wealth;  if  thou  didst 
depose  me,  I  was  thy  slave  and  had  done  wrong;  thou  didst 
well.  Now  this  is  the  way,  that  thou  follow  my  words  and 
lay  aside  kingship  till  our  plan  be  accomplished ;  if  afterward 


THE   SULTAN    AND   HIS   TRAITOROUS   SON 


459 


thou  art  wroth  with  me,  then  command ;  now  let  us  work.' 
The  king  said,  '  Do  what  thou  wilt ;  now  is  not  the  time  for 
words.'  The  vezir  said,  *  O  king,  arise  and  take  my  lamp  in 
thine  hand,  and  go  on  through  the  desert  before  thee  till  thou 
comest  to  my  house ;  if  anyone  see  thee  he  will  think  thee 
my  man  and  recognize  thee  not.'  The  king  took  the  vezir's 
lamp  in  his  hand,  and  they  went  on  and  passed  through  the 
bazaars  of  Cairo,  and  came  to  the  vezir's  house ;  and  the  vezir 
prepared  a  private  room  for  the  king. 

"  The  king  remained  there  some  days,  and  the  vezir  secretly 
sent  word  to  all  the  great  nobles  who  had  been  deposed,  and  as- 
sembled them.  And  one  night  he  brought  them  to  the  king  and 
reconciled  them,  and  said,  '  On  the  morrow  be  ye  ready  and 
show  zeal  each  one  of  you  for  his  estate.'  That  night  they 
gathered  together  all  the  disbanded  soldiers  who  were  there ; 
and  when  it  was  morning  they  beat  the  kettledrums  on  every 
side,  and  ere  those  traitor  nobles  and  vezirs  had  arisen  they  put 
many  of  them  to  the  sword ;  and  they  seized  the  king's  son 
and  all  the  rest  of  his  vezirs,  and  brought  them  before  the 
king.  And  the  king  executed  the  whole  of  them,  slaying  each 
of  them  with  a  different  torment.  Thenceforth  he  sat  upon 
his  throne  with  tranquillity  of  heart,  and  enjoyed  happiness  and 
delight. 

**  Now,  O  king,  I  have  told  this  story  for  that  the  king  may 
know  that  vezirs  are  not  to  be  altogether  trusted ;  and  be  thou 
ready,  for  these  vezirs  purpose  evil  against  the  king,  and  the 
like  of  this  story  shall  befall  thee.  I  have  watched  for  my 
king  and  told  him.  And  I  know  of  a  surety  that  they  have 
made  a  pact  if  left  till  the  morrow  to  seat  the  youth  upon  the 
throne,  and  to  seize  thee  and  to  give  thee  into  the  youth's 
hands.  God  knows  what  will  happen  to  ill-fortuned  me.  Woe 
is  me !  "  And  she  wept  full  bitterly.  When  the  king  heard 
this  story  from  the  lady,  and  beheld  this  plight,  he  believed 
the  lady's  words,  and  held  them  to  be  true ;  and  fear  for  his 
life  fell  upon  the  king.  He  said :  "  O  lady,  weep  not ;  on  the 
morrow  will  I  seize  the  whole  of  the  vezirs,  and,  after  T  have 
put  the  youth  to  death,  I  will  give  to  each  of  them,  one  by  one, 
his  due."  When  the  lady  heard  these  words  from  the  king 
she  was  glad,  and  said,  "  O  king,  when  thou  hast  slain  the 
whole  of  them,  appoint  nobles  vezirs  in  their  stead,  and  then 


46o  HISTORY   OF   THE    FORTY   VEZIRS 

lean  thy  back  against  the  wall  of  retirement,  and  give  thyself 
up  to  mirth  and  merriment :  till  thou  hast  done  thus  thou  shalt 
not  be  at  ease."  And  the  king  consented  to  this  proposal,  and 
they  passed  that  night  till  the  morning  conversing. 

Conclusion 

When  it  was  morning  the  king  was  wrathful,  and  he  came 
and  sat  upon  his  throne,  and  he  said,  "Where  is  the  youth? 
let  him  come."  They  brought  him,  and  the  king  said,  "  Ask 
ye  him  if  he  confesses  to  the  charge  of  his  mother."  There- 
upon the  grand  vezir  said,  "  Let  him  come  before  you  and  be 
asked,  and  it  will  be  well;  bring  him,  let  us  ask  him."  The 
king  commanded  that  they  brought  him,  and  he  said,  "  Youth, 
speak ;  how  hast  thou  done  by  thy  mother  ?  "  The  youth  was 
silent.  The  king  turned  and  said,  "  Be  not  silent,  there  is 
leave  to  thee,  speak."  The  youth  was  silent.  Again  the  grand 
vezir  said,  "  Perchance  his  governor  might  make  him  tell." 

Straightway  the  king  commanded  that  they  should  bring  his 
governor;  and  they  sought  him  but  found  him  not,  and  came 
and  told  the  king.  The  king  said,  "  This  day  it  is  needful  to 
make  manifest  my  justice;  let  the  executioner  come."  He 
came ;  and  the  king  commanded,  saying,  "  Take  the  youth  and 
all  those  vezirs ;  and  kill  them."  And  they  took  the  whole  of 
them  from  the  presence  of  the  king;  and  they  made  clean  the 
judgment-square  and  sprinkled  it  with  sand.  And  they  made 
the  vezirs  sit  down  by  tens,  and  they  brought  the  youth  too. 
Then  the  executioner  set  the  prince  upon  his  knees  and  bound 
his  eyes,  and  he  drew  his  sword  from  its  scabbard  and  bared 
it,  and  said,  "  Is  there  leave,  O  king  ?  In  thy  glory  is  my  arm 
strong  and  my  sword  keen.  The  cut-off  head  grows  not  again, 
and  too  late  repentance  profits  not."  And  he  went  twice  round 
the  divan  and  asked  leave  of  the  king ;  and  the  king  commanded 
him,  saying,  "  Smite  off  his  head."  The  executioner  went 
round  the  divan  once  more,  and  as  he  was  again  asking  leave 
of  the  king,  the  bearer  of  glad  tidings  came,  crying,  "  The 
prince's  governor  comes !  "  The  king  said,  "  Quick,  seize  and 
bring  him." 

Forthwith  the  slaves  brought  the  governor,  not  letting  his 
feet  touch  the  ground.     When  the  king  saw  the  governor  he 


CONCLUSION  461 

was  wroth,  and  said,  "  Kill  him !  "  The  governor  said,  "  O 
king,  wherefore  art  thou  angry?  If  it  be  thy  desire  to  make 
the  youth  speak,  bring  him  and  let  him  speak."  Quoth  the 
king,  "  Is  it  thou  who  saidest  to  the  youth,  '  Speak  not '  ?  " 
The  governor  answered,  "Yea."  The  king  said,  "Why?" 
The  governor  said,  "  O  king  of  the  world,  I  saw  the  prince's 
ruling  star  in  the  astrolabe  that  for  forty  days  it  was  in  evil 
aspect,  such  evil  aspect  that  if  he  uttered  the  least  word  he 
should  perish,  but  that  if  he  spake  not  he  should  escape.  I 
taught  him  a  Name,  and  charged  him  straitly  that  he  should 
not  speak  the  least  word.  Now  is  the  time  accomplished,  and  I 
am  come ;  command  that  they  bring  him,  and  I  shall  give  him 
leave  to  speak."  The  king  commanded  that  they  brought  the 
youth,  and  the  governor  said,  "  My  prince,  be  my  life  a  ransom 
for  thy  father  and  for  thee !  Praise  be  to  God !  the  evil  aspect 
of  thy  star  is  accomplished ;  loose  thy  nightingale  tongue  and 
speak ;  what  is  this  plight  ?  " 

Straightway  the  youth  said,  "  In  the  name  of  God !  "  And 
he  related  what  befell  him  with  the  lady  from  its  beginning  to 
its  end ;  and  then  he  fell  upon  the  ground  and  began  to  weep. 
And  the  king  put  his  finger  to  his  mouth  and  wondered.  And 
the  members  of  the  divan  marvelled  at  this  deed  of  the  woman, 
and  they  said,  "  The  prince's  words  are  with  reason  and  truth, 
and  such  like  trickery  comes  from  womankind." 

Then  the  king  asked  the  slave-girls,  and  they  bare  witness 
that  they  had  been  behind  the  wall  and  had  heard  the  thing, 
and  that  the  prince  spake  truly.  And  the  king  saw  that  the 
right  was  the  prince's,  and  he  repented  him  of  what  he  had 
done.  And  he  besought  pardon,  and  kissed  the  prince's  two 
eyes,  and  pressed  him  to  his  heart  and  wept  full  bitterly.  And 
straightway  he  commanded  that  they  bring  the  vezirs ;  and 
the  king  made  many  excuses  to  them,  and  clad  each  of  them 
in  sumptuous  robes,  and  bestowed  boundless  gifts  and  favors 
upon  them,  and  begged  forgiveness  of  all  of  them.  And  the 
vezirs  said,  "  My  king,  whatsoever  cruelty  and  injustice  thou 
hast  done  us,  be  it  all  forgiven  thee;  our  fear  was  lest  thou 
should  slay  the  prince,  acting  on  the  woman's  word ;  for  our 
vezirship  is  by  the  health  and  safety  of  our  king  and  our  prince  ; 
and  their  existence  is  a  mercy  to  the  world ;  after  they  were 
perished  the  perishing  of  the  whole  of  us  were  a  thing  assured." 


402  HISTORY   OF   THE   FORTY  VEZIRS 

And  they  all  kissed  the  ground  together^  and  asked  for  retribu- 
tion on  the  woman. 

And  the  king  commanded  that  they  bring  a  wild  ass ;  and 
they  took  the  lady  to  the  square  of  judgment  and  set  her  upon 
that  ass,  and  bound  her  fast  to  his  tail  and  legs,  and  took  her 
forth  to  the  desert.  And  they  smote  the  ass  with  a  whip,  and 
the  ass  began  to  gallop  and  the  woman  fell  from  his  back  to  the 
ground ;  and  the  wild  ass  looked,  and  when  he  saw  the  woman 
behind  him  he  shied  and  ran  off.  And  the  woman  was  torn 
into  pieces  small  even  as  her  ear,  and  left  upon  the  shrubs  and 
stones.  Thus  that  which  she  had  purposed  against  the  prince 
befel  herself.  The  sires  say,  "  Wish  good  that  good  may  come 
to  thee :  if  thou  dig  a  pit  for  another,  dig  it  deep ;  for  it  is  like 
thou  shalt  fall  therein  thyself;  then  thou  needest  not  trouble 
trying  to  get  out."  And  from  that  time  has  the  saying  been 
among  the  folk,  "  May  I  see  thee  on  the  ass !  "  After  that 
the  king  summoned  all  the  vezirs  and  the  nobles  and  the  com- 
monalty, and  he  made  a  great  feast  with  all  manner  of  minstrels 
and  music,  and  for  forty  days  and  forty  nights  they  feasted  and 
made  merry  gratefully.  And  then  they  lived  for  many  years, 
and  did  justice  and  dealt  with  equity. 


' 


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^  ^'■OAN  DEPT, 

Renewal.  „ar  b^^i^^iS^Z/'Ss''^''^'^»^  «"W 
if^f^f^oo'ki'^a^ty^^a,,  çrior  to  date  due. 
— ■ ■ .L-,.!^  *"  'Punediate  recall. 


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